


Providence

by bryndenn



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: AU, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bottom Will Graham, Cannibalism, College Student Will, Daddy Kink, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Oral Sex, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Praise Kink, Professor Hannibal, Rimming, Spanking, Subspace, Sugar Daddy, Top Hannibal Lecter, professor/student
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-25
Updated: 2021-01-07
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:22:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 20
Words: 22,643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27194377
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bryndenn/pseuds/bryndenn
Summary: Will Graham is a reclusive, brilliant college student. Hannibal Lecter is an exacting visiting professor with legendarily high standards for the students he works with. Neither realizes how much both their lives are about to change. But once they meet, there’s no denying that the two of them are meant to be together.
Relationships: Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Comments: 129
Kudos: 720





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is obscenely un-betaed, so any mistakes are 100% my own.

“Hey Graham. You awake?”

Will is hit in the face with a balled-up napkin, causing him to startle and flail around ineffectively.

Brian starts laughing around a mouthful of food, and Jimmy looks from Brian to Will as if he’s not sure which one of them he wants to make fun of more. Beverly’s got a self-satisfied grin on her face.

“That’s what you get for ignoring me.”

“Thanks a million, Bev,” Will says sourly.

“Come on, man,” Brian says. “Classes haven’t even started yet. Why do you already have the patented ‘Will Graham is stressed’ look on your face?”

“I’m just worried about the seminar I’m taking with Dr. Lecter,” Will says. He’s too stressed to even make eye contact with any of his roommates.

“You mean the one that you got special permission to take because you’re some kind of wunderkind?” Jimmy asks drily. 

“Yes,” Will says, ignoring the humor in Jimmy’s voice. “Dr. Lecter never accepts anyone but seniors and grad students.”

“How do you know what Dr. Lecter  _ always _ does?” Bev asks. “He’s a visiting professor. No one knows anything aside from what they’ve read.”

“And I’ve  _ read _ that he doesn’t accept anyone other than seniors and grad students,” Will snaps. 

“Dude, you practically taught abnormal psych last semester,” Bev says. “I think you’ll be fine.”

“Yeah, that adjunct was the worst,” Will says. 

“You’ll do fine,” Jimmy says. 

Will doesn’t respond, but he knows his roommates don’t have the slightest idea how intense Dr. Hannibal Lecter’s seminars are.

Will’s read everything he could get his hands on, both by and about Dr. Lecter. But nothing has prepared him for meeting the man in person. 

Will had weighed out whether he’d rather arrive in the classroom early in order to get his preferred seat in the back, but run the risk of having to talk to his classmates; or arrive late and potentially get an uncomfortable seat in the front row. It seems worth the potential for one day’s worth of uncomfortable interaction with people to stake a claim on his preferred seat for the semester, so he’s fifteen minutes early to the class.

There are already both a fair number of students in the classroom and a lot of seats still available in the back. Will muses that he hadn’t taken into account that most of the students in this class are the type who jockey for the front-row seats. Dr. Lecter, however, is nowhere to be seen.

Suits Will just fine. He takes a seat in the next-to-last row and settles in. He’s read that Dr. Lecter dislikes it when his students use computers during class, so he pulls out an old-school yellow legal tablet and writes the date on the top.

“Do you not have a laptop?” says an accented voice above him.

Will looks up, annoyed enough that he’s willing to make fleeting eye contact with the person talking to him, and freezes. The man who stands in front of him is almost unbelievably beautiful, with eyes so dark they almost look maroon, impossibly high cheekbones, and an aristocratic air. He’s wearing a plaid three-piece suit with a paisley tie that would look ridiculous on any mere mortal; but this man is obviously a god.

Will has never felt attraction to a guy before, but the immediate desire he has for this man is almost overwhelming.

“You’re Dr. Lecter,” he blurts out.

“I am,” the man says, extending his hand. His grip is warm and firm. Will has to force himself to let go of the other man’s hand.

“I thought you didn’t like computers,” Will says. Apparently he’s going to just yell out random stupid things for the entire conversation. His cheeks are warm with embarrassment. 

“That doesn’t usually stop people,” Dr. Lecter says, a small smile on his lips.

Will can’t imagine doing anything that would anger the gorgeous man standing in front of him. “I’m not most people,” he replies.

_ Smooth, Will. I mean, really. _

“That much is immediately obvious,” Dr. Lecter says. “I can tell right away that you are quite singular, Mr…?”

“Graham. Will Graham.”

Dr. Lecter’s eyebrows rise. “You’re the junior,” he says. “Dr. Bloom speaks very highly of you.”

Will shoves his glasses up the bridge of his nose, uncomfortable with compliments. “Dr. Bloom is very kind,” he says.

Dr. Lecter doesn’t say anything for so long that Will finally risks another look up--directly into the other man’s eyes.

The flare of desire he felt before immediately rekindles. He sees Dr. Lecter’s nostrils flare slightly, and gets the insane idea that the man knows what he’s doing to Will.

“Dr. Bloom is very competent,” Dr. Lecter finally says. “If she vouches for you, I have no doubt you’ll be a valuable addition to the class.”

Will can’t think of anything to say. He can’t manage to break eye contact with Dr. Lecter, either. He’s never been so captivated by another person.

“You must excuse me,” Dr. Lecter says. “It seems I have a class to teach. It was a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Graham. I look forward to many interesting interactions throughout the semester.”

Will knows that Dr. Lecter means academic interactions, but he can’t stop his thoughts from going in a much different direction. 

Turns out it’s hard to pay attention in class when you’re busy being distracted by how well-fitted your professor’s pants are.

It’s going to be a long semester.

“So drop the class,” Bev says. She’s sprawled out on Will’s bed, frankly bogarting the joint that Will had just rolled.

“Jesus, Bev, leave some for me,” he grumbles.

“You need it,” Bev says, handing it over. “You’re always more fun when you get a couple hits in you.”

She’s not wrong. Pot can often dull Will’s natural ‘gifts’ in a way that makes them easier to live with. He doesn’t smoke it very often because it seems dangerous to rely on any sort of substance to make life bearable, but his class with Dr. Lecter had him digging into the stash he keeps in his sock drawer. It had been a gift from Bev the previous Christmas, so she insisted that she had to help him smoke it.

“Bev, he’s so gorgeous,” Will says as the drug works its way through his system, loosening both his muscles and his tongue. “His ass is, like, a work of art.”

“Welcome to Team Queer,” Bev says. 

Will looks at her and shakes his head. “I don’t know if that’s it,” he says.

“Um, you’ve spent the past twenty minutes talking about how hot he is,” she says.

“Yes. I am insanely attracted to Hannibal Lecter. Does that make me gay?”

“It doesn’t make you straight,” Bev says with a snort. 

“How did you know you were gay?”

Bev shrugs. “It was never a big realization. I always wanted to kiss girls. When did you decide to be straight?”

“Okay, point taken,” Will says. 

“Don’t worry about labelling yourself unless you want to,” Bev says, reaching for the joint again. “Just like who you like.”

Will sighs. “Did you honestly just advise me-- _ me _ \--to not overthink something?”

Bev looks at him and cracks up. “This shit must be stronger than I thought,” she says. “Totally forgot who I was talking to.”


	2. Chapter 2

Hannibal Lecter is not the sort of man who feels guilty very often.

Someone with his proclivities can’t afford to.

However, he is pleased to discover that Will Graham is over the age of consent, by any given standard. 

Will’s arousal had not gone unnoticed by Hannibal, who could smell the pheromones practically dripping off the boy.

If Hannibal had his way, Will would be dripping in much more interesting things very soon.

But what was the best way to approach it? Will was like a skittish deer. The slightest movement by Hannibal might spook him, and then Hannibal would have to start all over again.

“Hannibal, you’re a million miles away.”

He glances up at Alana Bloom, who is sitting at Hannibal’s ornately decorated table, a forkful of “boeuf” bourguignon hovering between her plate and her mouth.

“Is it acceptable?” he asks. Usually, he’s above fishing for compliments, but he’d like to keep Alana on safe conversational ground.

“It’s the most delicious thing I’ve eaten since the last time you cooked for me, and you know it,” Alana says, a wry smile on her lips. “I asked how the first day of your seminar was.”

Hannibal struggles to remember a single moment of the class that wasn’t colored by Will Graham. When Alana had recommended that Hannibal take on an underclassman, Hannibal had initially refused. But she had made such an impassioned plea that Hannibal had finally acquiesced, in no small part so he could hold it over her head when the student invariably couldn’t keep up with the class.

But then he’d walked into his classroom and laid eyes on a Botticelli painting of a man. It was almost as if there was an aura of bright light surrounding Will. He was so beautiful that it made Hannibal’s breath catch in his throat--and the young man didn’t have the slightest idea how gorgeous he was.

Hannibal’s thoughts immediately went to a vision of Will on his knees, Hannibal’s cock deep in his throat. He imagined those blue eyes locked with his as Will sucked him towards completion. It took all of Hannibal’s considerable strength of will to keep himself from getting hard in the middle of the classroom.

And to discover that Will was not just beautiful, but smart enough that Alana had recommended him? Hannibal’s heart beat a bit faster just thinking about it.

Which was quite an accomplishment, considering that his heart rate had remained remarkably steady even during the most strenuous part of butchering the cow that he and Alana were consuming.

“I see the promise you mentioned in young Mr. Graham,” Hannibal says mildly. “He didn’t speak very often, but when he did, it was clear how bright he is.”

“I knew he would impress you,” Alana said. “I always look forward to seeing his name on my roster.”

“It seems like he prefers to keep to himself,” Hannibal says, spearing a pearl onion.

“He’s very particular about who he lets in,” Alana says.

“His childhood was difficult?”

“Well, whose wasn’t?” Alana asks, arching an eyebrow. “But I do get the sense that Will grew up with a lot more privation than most of our students.”

Hannibal thinks back to how Will’s clothes were clean, but obviously well-worn. 

“Is he here on scholarship?” he asks.

“Yes, full ride,” Alana says. “He never started and finished a school year in the same place, but he managed to get top marks no matter what school he was in.”

Just as Hannibal had thought: singular.

“You won’t break him, will you?” Alana asks, fixing Hannibal with a sharp look.

He raises his eyebrows in surprise. “Am I not civilized?” he asks.

“Your civility can be sharper than most people’s anger,” Alana responds. “Will is brilliant, but delicate. Like a piece of porcelain.”

“Or bone china,” Hannibal says.

He does not share with Alana that he suspects Will Graham to be much more resilient than she is giving him credit for. But, oh, he will enjoy proving just how strong Mr. Graham truly is.


	3. Chapter 3

“Mr. Graham.”

Dr. Lecter does not speak loudly--nor does he have to. Will is so attuned to the sound of his professor’s voice that he instantly looks up to where Dr. Lecter is grading papers at his desk.

“Might I have a word,” Dr. Lecter says. He doesn’t raise his head from his grading.

“Yeah, sure,” Will says, shifting his backpack from one shoulder to the other nervously. “Is it about my final paper? I know the first draft I sent was rough…”

Dr. Lecter finally looks up, his eyes locking on Will. “Nothing to do with your paper,” he says. 

“Oh.” Will feels small, young. Being this close to Dr. Lecter always throws him off guard. His body reacts to the closeness, but, emotionally, he feels as if he’s seven years old again, just waiting to see what unfortunate news this authority figure has for him.

“Your gloves,” Dr. Lecter says, gesturing. 

Will looks at his hands and his cheeks color. He didn’t realize quite how ratty they’d gotten. He’ll have to take a trip down to the Salvation Army, see if he can’t find a new pair for cheap. November’s not the best time to find second-hand gloves, but there might be something. He pulls his gloves off in embarrassment.

“Here,” Dr. Lecter says, handing Will a pair of impossibly soft charcoal-gray gloves. “I think you will find that these keep your hands much warmer.”

Will runs his thumb over the gloves. He’s never felt anything this luxurious before. “I couldn’t possibly take your gloves, sir,” he says quietly, setting them back down on the desk. “I have another pair at home.”

Dr. Lecter’s eyes are sympathetic. “We both know that’s not true, Will,” he says. “I happen to have an extra pair of gloves. They were a gift, and they’re too small for me. I think they will be a fine fit for you, though.”

Will looks at the gloves longingly. On top of being soft, they’re so light, it would be almost like wearing nothing at all. Quite different from his current bulky ski gloves.

“Call it an early Christmas present,” Dr. Lecter says.

Will’s almost convinced, but his pride is being stubborn.

“I’m not in need of charity,” he says, more sharply than he intends to.

Dr. Lecter’s eyes flash at him, and Will momentarily thinks he sees something dangerous in them. It scares him some, but mostly it just turns him on. He’s glad that his winter coat hangs below his hips so Dr. Lecter can’t see the effect he’s having.

“Do it for me, then,” Dr. Lecter says, his voice low. “It would bring me great pleasure to see you enjoy them.”

And how can Will possibly say no to something that will bring Dr. Lecter ‘great pleasure’? He pauses for just a moment before he picks up the gloves.

“Thank you,” Dr. Lecter says with a small smile. “You’ve made me very happy, Will.”

And if Will jerks off later while wearing the gloves and thinking about making Dr. Lecter very happy, well, no one needs to know, right?

The first gift is the hardest to accept. After that, it becomes easier. There’s the pen that Will borrows and Dr. Lecter insists that he keep; the book that Dr. Lecter had an “extra” copy of; and then there’s the food.

“I’m afraid I packed far too much for my lunch,” Dr. Lecter says casually to Will after their class one day. “I’m very particular about what I put into my body, and I insist on making most of my own food. But today, my eyes appear to have been very much bigger than my stomach. If you don’t have plans, would you stay and help me finish it? I’m afraid that the puff pastry will be quite ruined by tomorrow.”

Will has not been to Dr. Lecter’s office before, but he’s not surprised to find it tastefully decorated in rich colors. Dr. Lecter motions for Will to sit at one of the plush leather chairs on the far side of the desk, and retrieves two bowls of soup from a small refrigerator recessed into the walls. He lays something on top of them and then puts them into what looks like a toaster oven sitting on one of the counters.

“Big fan of toast, are you?” asks Will with a smile.

Dr. Lecter smiles back. “It is a convection oven,” he says. “Convenient for when I need to foist extra soup off on unsuspecting students.”

Will doesn’t like the idea of Dr. Lecter foisting anything off on anyone other than him. In fact, a tendril of jealousy wraps itself around his stomach and squeezes. Which is thoroughly ridiculous. He has no claim over Hannibal Lecter, nor will he ever.

Lecter could fuck another student on his desk right in front of Will, and Will wouldn’t have the moral right to say a damned thing.

“What has you so engrossed?” Dr. Lecter asks, sitting across from Will and steepling his fingers under his chin.

Will looks at him, and for a moment he’s certain that Dr. Lecter knows what Will was just thinking. But the man’s a psychiatrist, not a psychic, damn it. There’s no way he could know.

“Will you be taking my advanced seminar next semester, Will?” Dr. Lecter asks.

Will startles. “I was under the impression that you were only visiting for a semester,” he says.

Dr. Lecter shrugs. Of course he somehow elevates this casual gesture to a thing of beauty, and Will is momentarily bewitched. “I have extended, at least through the academic year. I am considering joining the faculty full-time. I find myself developing a fondness for the college that I would find it difficult to step away from.”

It takes all of Will’s strength to keep his cool at this news. He has been preparing himself for Dr. Lecter to walk out of his life in a month; the discovery that the man will be around for at least another semester is so great it almost overshadows--

“You said you’re offering an advanced seminar next semester?”

“Yes,” Dr. Lecter says with a smile. “I feel that we could dig deeper into some of the topics we’ve discussed this semester.”

“That would be fantastic!” Will says, grinning in excitement. “But I’d need special permission again.”

“I know the instructor,” Dr. Lecter says solemnly. “I’m certain I can convince him to pull a few strings.”


	4. Chapter 4

Hannibal wonders how Will would react if he found out what, exactly, Hannibal has been feeding him.

With most people, Hannibal is assured of the fact that they would be horrified to discover they had been eating human flesh.

But Will? Hannibal isn’t so sure. He suspects Will would be fascinated by the entire thing. It is rather too much for Hannibal to hope that Will would be outright accepting; but he is also unlikely to sever the relationship entirely.

Hannibal has done a good job of making Will dependent upon him.

His biggest bargaining chip is the advanced spring seminar he will be offering. That alone might be enticement enough to tempt Will into his bed. However, he wants so much more from the young man than just the use of his (admittedly gorgeous) body. He wants Will to submit to him--mind, body, and soul. And in order to make that happen, there is still quite a bit of groundwork that Hannibal must lay.

He idly wonders if he can convince Will to hunt with him one day. Just the thought of it is enough to make Hannibal’s cock stiffen in his pants. Will would be such a graceful hunter. He’d make it look effortless. And then Hannibal would take Will in the middle of the blood-drenched scene.

Hannibal forces himself to think about less stimulating things.

His eyes flick over to where Will is sitting, talking with his small group. Will’s eyes are bright with the point he’s making, and Hannibal is entranced at the sight. In Will’s hand is the pen that Hannibal given him. It perturbs Hannibal a bit that Will isn’t wearing any clothing that Hannibal has gifted him. That situation will have to change, and quickly. Ideally, Will should be wearing nothing that wasn’t given to him by Hannibal. 

He requires so very much convincing with each gift, though.

Hannibal understands why; people of Will’s socio-economic status are generally distrustful of gifts and skeptical of gift-givers, as Will probably ought to be skeptical of him. But Hannibal’s intentions are nothing but generous. He wants to help Will grow into his own exceptionality.

He’s also interested in hearing how prettily the boy begs.

As much as Hannibal would like to draw out the process and really enjoy each stage, his hunger for Will is growing at an exponential pace. He realizes he needs to make his move sooner rather than later; otherwise, he risks losing his self-control and making a move that will permanently distance Will.

Perhaps a trip to an academic conference is in his near future. And he will, of course, need an assistant to help him prepare his presentation.

Now where could he possibly find a suitable candidate?

Will’s amazement is obvious from the moment they step into the lobby of the hotel.

“This is the fanciest place I’ve ever been,” Will whispers.

Hannibal smiles at him. “You belong in places like this, Will. You should accustom yourself to them.”

Will shakes his head. “I don’t think that’s ever going to happen.”

“We’ll see,” Hannibal says simply.

They head up to the check-in counter. “I have a reservation for Dr. Lecter,” Hannibal says. “It ought to be a two-bedroom suite.”

The woman looks at her screen and frowns. “I’m sorry, Dr. Lecter, but the reservation in my system is for a single room with a king bed.”

“That can’t be right. I’m certain I reserved a suite.”

He’s actually certain that he didn’t, but this little piece of theatre is purely for Will’s benefit.

“I’m so sorry, sir, but all we have available is the single room. We’re completely booked due to the conference.”

“This is unacceptable,” Hannibal says. “You cannot possibly be proposing that my student and I share a single bed.”

The hotel employee blushes and glances down. “No, sir. I wouldn’t presume to tell you any such thing. All I can tell you is that the single room with a king bed is all we have available.”

“Is there at least a cot you can send up?” Hannibal asks. He knows the answer to that as well.

“I’m afraid we don’t,” she says. “I do apologize. Please allow me to offer you dinner at our Michelin-star restaurant as compensation for the inconvenience.”

“It appears that will have to do,” Hannibal murmurs. “I’m sorry, Will,” he says, turning. “We will have to get creative with the solution for our sleeping problem.”

“It’s no problem, Dr. Lecter,” Will says quietly. “I can sleep on the floor. I’ve slept on worse.”

“My dear boy, you most certainly will not.” Hannibal paints a scandalized look on his face. “I am certain we can do better than that.”

Much, much better than that, if Hannibal has his way. Which he usually does.


	5. Chapter 5

Will flips from one side to the other in his position on the very edge of the enormous bed. Over dinner, Dr. Lecter had gently worn down Will’s protests that he couldn’t possibly impinge on Dr. Lecter’s privacy by sharing the bed.

“It’s the same size as two twin beds pushed together,” Dr. Lecter had said, a smile on his lips. “There’s more than enough room, Will. I can’t think of a single reason that either of us should be uncomfortable.”

It was easy for Dr. Lecter to say that. He wasn’t nursing a schoolboy crush like Will was.

Which was ridiculous. It’s not as if a man like Dr. Lecter would ever be interested in a neurotic college student like Will.

And how could Will contradict the points Dr. Lecter was making without admitting that his real concern was that he’d do something embarrassing while he slept? Reach over and touch Dr. Lecter, or, god forbid, moan his name? Will’s dreams had become much more erotic since he’d met Hannibal Lecter, and Will knew that he sometimes talked in his sleep. He’d been planning on there being at least a wall or two in between the two of them while they slept.

The trouble hadn’t ended there, either. Will had planned to wear a t-shirt and boxers to sleep, like he normally did. But that plan also assumed separate bedrooms.

“Will, are you planning to sleep in your jeans?” Dr. Lecter asked as Will pulled the blankets back.

“It’s just that--I thought…”

Dr. Lecter had fixed him with a look. “Please don’t assume I will be scandalized,” he said. “I am, after all, European.”

Will recognized the last sentence as a joke, and laughed weakly. It was easy for Dr. Lecter, in his soft red sweater and flannel sleep pants, to talk.

“Tomorrow we shall make our escape for long enough to purchase you comfortable sleepwear,” Dr. Lecter said.

And now, hours later, all Will can think of is how much he wants Dr. Lecter to dress him, and take care of him, and kiss him…

Which is patently ridiculous. Will has never needed someone else to take care of him. As far back as he can remember, he’s been the caretaker. He most certainly does not need someone to do that for him.

Although the longer he stays awake tossing and turning, the more he thinks that he might want it.

Finally, he falls into a fitful sleep, still plastered to the far edge of the bed.

“Will, wake up.”

The monster of Will’s dream is momentarily superimposed over Dr. Lecter as Will opens his eyes, and he scrambles backwards.

“Calm. You are safe,” Dr. Lecter says in a calm, soothing voice. When Will looks a second time, there’s no ink-black antlered creature sitting in front of him. It’s just Hannibal Lecter, his sleep-mussed hair falling over his forehead in a way that softens him. Dr. Lecter’s hands are on Will’s shoulders, calming and grounding him.

Will realizes that he’s drenched in sweat. “I’m so sorry,” he whispers. 

Dr. Lecter’s brow furrows. “Sorry for what, my dear boy?” he says. 

“I’ve made a mess of the bed and disrupted your sleep,” Will says. 

Dr. Lecter smiles. “Neither of those are things for which you need to apologize,” he says. There’s a fleeting look in his eyes that threatens to worsen Will’s situation by adding an inappropriate erection into the mix.

_ Do not think of Dr. Lecter like that. Not when he’s mere inches away. _

“What time is it?” Will asks instead.

“A little after two,” Dr. Lecter replies. “Here’s what I propose we do. I will call housekeeping and have them change the sheets. Meanwhile, we’ll get you into a warm shower.”

Will knows that it’s just a turn of phrase, and “we” won’t be involved in the showering. Nonetheless, he imagines Dr. Lecter’s strong hands washing him, and there’s no more denying the fact that he’s got a hard-on problem.

“That’s so much hassle,” Will says. “I think I should just sleep on the floor.”

Dr. Lecter raises an eyebrow. “We’ve discussed this, Will,” he says. “The hotel maintains a 24-hour housekeeping staff, so it is no bother to them. And I will sleep better knowing that you are comfortable. Please, acquiesce for my sake.”

Will sees what Dr. Lecter is doing, but the idea of a warm shower and then clean sheets is just too compelling for him to argue. “Okay,” he says.

“You stay here,” Dr. Lecter says. “I will prepare the shower for you.”

Will nods, and Dr. Lecter heads into the bathroom. Will hears the water start, and then a lovely scent wafts out on the steam escaping the shower. Will uses the time to force himself to calm down, and, thankfully, his cock actually listens. For once.

Dr. Lecter calls to him, and Will walks into the bathroom. Dr. Lecter has removed his sweater so it doesn’t get wet, and is testing the water temperature of the shower. 

“I added a lavender tablet to the shower,” he says. “It will melt as you shower, and the lavender essential oil will help you relax. I’ve also taken the liberty of stocking the shower with my own toiletries. Please feel free to use them.”

Will nods. “Thank you,” he says.

“Of course,” Dr. Lecter replies. “Now, I will go contact housekeeping. That is, unless you require anything else?”

All that Will needs is to jerk off in the shower to the fantasy of Dr. Lecter.

“I’m good,” he says. “I appreciate it so much, Dr. Lecter. I’m sorry, again.”

Dr. Lecter waves his hand. “Think nothing of it, Will,” he says. “I’m glad that you’re not dealing with this alone.”

So is Will.

The shower had been heavenly. The jerk-off session less so, mostly because it was tainted by the guilt of the fact that Dr. Lecter was in the other room, arranging to make Will comfortable, and Will was thanking him by gasping his name as he came all over the tiles of the shower.

Will’s guilt turns to something more like panic when he realizes that Dr. Lecter had come into the bathroom at some point to deliver a clean shirt and boxers from Will’s luggage. When had he done it? What had he heard?

Will tries to reassure himself that he was relatively quiet, and that any sounds he made were probably drowned out by the noise of the shower.

He hopes.

He dries off and puts on the shirt and boxers. Then his eyes land on Dr. Lecter’s red sweater, folded on the counter where Dr. Lecter had left it.

He slides it on over his shirt. It’s soft and warm and envelopes Will in the distinctive sandalwood and spice scent of Dr. Lecter.

He hugs himself, inhaling deeply.

Jesus, he’s got it so bad.

He leaves the bathroom and finds Dr. Lecter sitting at the table, drinking something out of a demitasse cup. Dr. Lecter’s eyes rove over Will and seem to approve of what they see, because he smiles.

“Do you feel better?” he asks.

“Loads better, thank you,” Will says. “Do you want your sweater back?”

“It looks better on you,” Dr. Lecter says with a smirk.

Will blushes at what is an obvious lie; literally anything in the world would look better on Hannibal Lecter than it would on anyone else, especially him.

“Come back to bed, dear boy,” Dr. Lecter says, holding a hand out for Will.

Dr. Lecter makes sure that Will is comfortable before moving to the side of the bed, giving Will an ample amount of space.

Will feels warm, comfortable, and cared for. His desire is momentarily tamped down by the fact he’s come recently, and so he’s able to fall asleep again fairly easily.

His dreams cease to torment him for this night, at least.


	6. Chapter 6

As Hannibal watches Will sleep, it’s all he can do not to crawl into bed next to him and pull him close.

This started as a purely sexual desire. But as Hannibal has gotten to know Will, he has to admit that his feelings are headed in a rather less carnal direction. 

Not that he’d turn down the chance to take Will apart and put him back together again.

It’s just that Hannibal finds himself wanting more from, and for, Will. He wants Will to quit worrying long enough to sleep soundly. He wants to see Will happy.

And, of course, he wouldn’t mind hearing Will gasping Hannibal’s name in the shower again.

When Will came out of the bathroom clad in Hannibal’s sweater, just as Hannibal hoped he would, it triggered something gentle inside Hannibal, something he hadn’t felt since--

No. He will not think of that.

Instead, he watches his Will sleeping peacefully. Hannibal does not need anywhere near as much sleep as most people, so he catches up on the news, reads the abstracts for the presentations he hopes to attend, and does some research on where he should take Will shopping.

By the time Will awakens, still sleepy and gentle, with his curls wild around his head, Hannibal has their day planned out. He hasn’t much time on this trip, and he plans to spend as little of it as his intellectual curiosity will allow actually attending the conference.

“No, Dr. Lecter,” Will says. “I can’t accept it. You’ve done too much already.”

“I hardly think that’s true, Will,” Hannibal says as he adds two more cashmere sweaters to the pile of clothes he already has. “You need a warm winter coat. Perhaps one to match your gloves.”

He sees Will’s eyes linger on a boiled wool peacoat. “My grandfather was in the Navy,” Will says. “He always wore a coat like that.”

“Then you must try it on,” Hannibal says. “Do you like blue, black, or gray?”

Will shrugs helplessly. “I don’t know.”

“Let’s try the blue,” Hannibal says. “It will bring out your eyes.”

Will slips the coat on and Hannibal looks over him hungrily. The classic form of the peacoat hugs Will’s slim frame.

“It is a perfect fit,” Hannibal says. “We’ll take it.”

“Do I get a say in any of this?” Will asks nervously.

“Do you dislike anything that we’ve chosen?” Hannibal asks.

“That’s not the point. It’s just far too expensive.”

“It is my money, and I am more than capable of deciding how I would like to spend it,” Hannibal says. “I really must insist that you do not insult me by thinking I would offer more than I was willing to give.”

Will’s cheeks redden. Just as Hannibal had suspected, the last thing Will wants is to offend Dr. Lecter. He fears it so much, in fact, that he’ll back down on his refusal.

This suits Hannibal just fine.

When Will isn’t looking, Hannibal adds some boxer briefs in a silky technical fabric to the pile. He wants to provide everything that Will will be wearing.

Hannibal sends Will to retrieve coffee before he pays for their purchases. It will do no good for Will to know the exact dollar amount Hannibal has spent on him. In fact, that knowledge is likely to make it more difficult for Dear Will to enjoy his new clothes.

Hannibal is already planning on having Will fitted for a bespoke suit when they return home. Just the thought of how Will will look in a custom suit makes Hannibal hungry.

The things he plans to do to that boy.

Hannibal is pleased when Will does not attempt to return the red sweater. Instead, Will pairs it with one of the pairs of soft flannel sleep pants they had purchased that day, and then crawls into bed.

Hannibal steadies his breathing, making it sound as if he is sleeping. Soon, Will’s breath evens out too.

Hannibal waits.

An hour or so after Will has fallen asleep, he gets restless, tossing and turning. Then he begins to make injured sounds. Hannibal watches as a fine sheen of sweat breaks out over Will’s forehead, and then moves to wake him. He’d prefer that Will not require another shower. Hannibal has other plans.

He moves across the bed so he’s next to Will.

“Will, wake up,” he says, shaking the boy’s arm.

Will’s eyes fly open, and they’re momentarily full of terror. Then he seems to realize where he is and relaxes.

“Another bad dream?” Hannibal asks.

“I’m sorry to have disturbed you,” Will whispers. “I really have been nothing but trouble for you.”

Hannibal makes a shushing noise and lays back down. He extends his arm towards Will.

“Come here. When I had nightmares as a child, my mother used to hold me close until the images went away.”

Will has the presence of mind to say, “So I’m the child in this situation?”

Hannibal doesn’t say anything until Will acquiesces and snuggles against him. “Can you deny that I am your elder?”

“No,” Will says, cozying up to Hannibal in a way that makes Hannibal suspect it’s not a hardship at all. “I just don’t want to bother you any further.”

Hannibal runs his fingers through Will’s curls and makes soothing noises. “Never a bother, Will. More of a blessing.”

After a few minutes, Will begins to pull away.

“Tell me the truth, Will,” Hannibal asks. “Are you moving because you want to, or because you think you ought to?”

Will’s silence answers for him.

“Stay,” Hannibal says, his arm wrapping protectively around Will’s shoulder. “Stay with me.”

Soon, Will is tired enough that he falls back to sleep.

Hannibal muses that it’s good one of them will get some sleep before morning.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I know two college students wouldn't text with correct punctuation. But I'm an old and I have to write it that way. Suspend disbelief for me?
> 
> I was not planning on sexytimes starting in this chapter. These characters are running the show.
> 
> If you're enjoying the story, would you please consider leaving me a comment? Like most writers, they are my oxygen. :)

> Beverly: Hey Graham. How’s the conference going? Having fun with Dr. Sexy?
> 
> Will: Ha ha. Things are fine.
> 
> Beverly: “Fine”? There is no way things are fine when you’re hanging out with your prof/crush. They’re either amazing or terrible. So which is it?
> 
> Will: How are Jimmy and Zee? Tell them I miss them.
> 
> Beverly: Now I KNOW you’re full of shit.
> 
> Will: It’s just a conference, Bev. Nothing exciting to report.
> 
> Beverly: Go ahead. Hold out on me. I’ll just feed you whiskey shots when you’re back until you’re willing to confess all.
> 
> Will: I’ll take the whiskey, but I think you’re destined for disappointment.
> 
> Beverly: We'll see.

“Who are you texting?” Dr. Lecter asks, a knowing smile on his lips.

“Just my roommate Bev,” he says.

“Do you harbor romantic feelings for this girl?” His tone is matter-of-fact, with just the slightest edge of something Will can’t quite place.

Will snorts. “Her girlfriend probably wouldn’t appreciate that. No, Bev’s just a friend.”

“And the two of you live together?”

“We share a suite with a couple of our other friends. Jimmy and Brian.”

Dr. Lecter hums and returns to jotting down notes. They’re in between sessions at the conference, and Will has a sense that Dr. Lecter was not especially impressed with the previous speaker.

“Are you warm enough?” Dr. Lecter asks, leaning towards Will.

“I’m fine,  _ Daddy _ ,” Will says. It’s supposed to be a joke. It really is. But Dr. Lecter’s eyes lock on Will’s, and Will’s not laughing. In fact, there’s an entirely different feeling coursing through him.

“Do you have father issues, Will?” Dr. Lecter asks, peering at Will. 

Unless Will’s mistaken, there’s a ragged edge to Dr. Lecter’s voice.

“Wouldn’t Jung say we all do?” he answers, his voice steadier than his thoughts.

He imagines himself underneath Dr. Lecter as the older man fucks into him. “I need more, Daddy,” Will whines.

_ Jesus. Christ. _

“I’m not asking about everyone. I’m asking about you,” Dr. Lecter says.

Fuck it. Will’s flirting.

“Would you rather I not call you Daddy?” he replies, his eyes locked on Dr. Lecter’s.

This time he’s positive he sees a little shiver go down Dr. Lecter’s spine.

_ Is it possible he’s getting off on this as much as I am? _

“You may call me whatever you like,” Dr. Lecter says, his voice like velvet-covered steel. “Is that what you want to call me, Will?”

In for a penny, in for a pound. Will nods almost imperceptibly.

Dr. Lecter stands up. “Room. Now,” he commands.

Will doesn’t need to be told twice.

There are other people waiting for the elevator, but a fierce look from Dr. Lecter encourages them to wait for the next one. He pulls Will into the elevator, mashes the door close button, and pins Will against the wall.

Will can feel the other man’s arousal, and he’s certain Dr. Lecter can feel his, as well.

“Are you playing me, Will?” Dr. Lecter whispers quietly in his ear. “Is this some sort of game?”

“No,” Will gasps. “No. I want as much as you’re willing to give me, sir.”

Dr. Lecter growls and presses harder against Will. “Because if this  _ is _ a game, you need to know you’re playing with fire.”

“It’s not a game,” Will says. 

Dr. Lecter kisses him then. It’s harsh, all tongue and teeth, and Will loves every second of it. He tilts his hips against the other man, needing friction against his cock. 

Dr. Lecter turns around and hits the elevator stop button. This time he kisses Will more gently, his tongue asking for permission before licking into his mouth. Will isn’t sure which sort of kiss drives him crazier. He’ll have to experience more of each to be able to make a decision.

“Dr. Lecter…” he moans as the other man pulls away.

“I think, considering the circumstances, ‘Hannibal’ would be appropriate.”

Will tries it out. “Hannibal.”

“Yes, Will?”

“We should probably either get this elevator moving or plan on it being stopped for a long time.”

Hannibal laughs. “Wise boy,” he says. “As you wish.”

When the elevator door opens on their floor, a casual observer would see one very flustered college student and one elegant, pulled-together man. Only the two of them know about the depth of passion that they share.

The room is at the end of the hallway. They don’t run--Hannibal would never do anything so gauche--but they definitely walk down the hallway fast. As soon as they’re through the door, Hannibal pins Will’s wrists over his head as he presses him against the wall.

“Tell me what you want, Will,” he says.

“All of it,” Will gasps. He’d meant what he said before. He was willing to give Hannibal anything he wanted.

“Do you wish me to fellate you?” Hannibal asks. Coming from anyone else, it would just sound weird, but in Hannibal’s Lithuanian accent, it’s the hottest thing Will’s ever heard.

“Yes,” he moans.

Hannibal leans in and whispers in Will’s ear, “Are you going to be good for Daddy and come down my throat, Will?”

Hell, Will is going to come in his pants if Hannibal keeps talking like that.

“Yes,  _ please _ , Daddy, I need it,” he babbles. Anything to get Hannibal’s mouth on him.

Hannibal releases Will’s hands and drops to his knees, calmly opening Will’s pants and letting them drop to his ankles. Will is wearing one of the pairs of boxers Hannibal bought him, and Hannibal growls when he sees them.

“I want nothing to touch you that I haven’t given you,” he says, looking up at Will with fire in his eyes. “I want to take care of you. Protect you.  _ Please _ you.”

Will sobs with how much he wants that. “Please, Hannibal,” he whispers.

Hannibal pulls off Will’s boxers and swallows him down in one graceful move. Will’s gotten blow jobs before, from tentative girls who behaved as if they were doing him a favor. Hannibal, on the other hand, seems to be enjoying himself nearly as much as Will. Will shudders as Hannibal moans around him.

“I’m not going to last,” Will says. “Hannibal, I can’t.”

Hannibal’s only response is to cup Will’s balls as he deepthroats him once again. Will comes with a shout, pouring himself down Hannibal’s willing throat. Afterwards, Hannibal pulls back and gently licks Will’s cock clean.

“Holy fuck,” Will whispers.

“Actually, I believe that’s customarily referred to as a blow job,” Hannibal says, looking up at him and smiling.

Will feels his knees begin to give out, and Hannibal is on his feet immediately. He picks Will up and carries him to the bed. The last thing Will remembers is the scent of Hannibal all around him and a feeling of complete and utter peace.


	8. Chapter 8

Will awakens in the middle of the night and rolls close to Hannibal, his erection pressing itself into Hannibal’s leg. As much as Hannibal wishes to take advantage of the situation, he knows his boy needs sleep.

“Go to sleep, my darling,” Hannibal whispers, pressing a kiss to Will’s brow.

Will’s eyelids flutter and open momentarily.

“Hannibal,” he says, his voice warm.

“Sleep,” Hannibal repeats. “You will need your strength, dear Will.”

“For the conference?” Will asks sleepily. 

“I have a rather more interesting day planned for the two of us. But only if you sleep,” Hannibal replies.

“Yes, Daddy,” Will says, and rolls over, leaving Hannibal with a problem of his own. 

As he lays in bed, willing his cock to calm down, Hannibal realizes just how much this boy already has him wrapped around his finger.

Hannibal allows Will to sleep in, only waking him when room service delivers their breakfast. He would prefer to cook for his Will, but they will have to make do with what the hotel offers.

“What time is it?” Will asks, rolling over towards the smell of bacon.

“A bit after nine,” Hannibal replies.

“Shit!” Will says, sitting upright. “Why didn’t you wake me? The first session began at eight!”

Hannibal gives Will an amused smile. “I take it you do not recall our conversation in the middle of the night?”

Will shakes his head and looks nervous. “What conversation?”

“The one where I mentioned we would not be attending the conference today.”

“Did I say anything embarrassing?” Will asks, running his hand through his hair and making his curls stand up in every direction.

“On the contrary, you were quite charming,” Hannibal says. 

He moves to the side of the bed and sits down next to Will. Will leans in as if he’s magnetically drawn to Hannibal. Hannibal puts a finger under Will’s chin and tips it up a bit for a kiss. When Will parts his lips, Hannibal can’t help but lick into his mouth. His boy is so very responsive and trusting. 

Will tries to pull Hannibal on top of him, but Hannibal resists. “You must eat, Will,” he says. “Keep your strength up.”

“I have plenty of strength,” Will growls.

He’s like a fierce puppy, and Hannibal has to resist the urge to tell him how very adorable he is. “Be a good boy and eat breakfast for Daddy.”

Hannibal can actually see Will’s cock stiffen under the sheet. It takes all his restraint to continue to insist on breakfast.

“I will make it very worth your while,” he whispers in Will’s ear. 

“Yes, Daddy,” Will says, his eyes wide. He slips on his boxers and lets Hannibal lead him to the table and load up a plate for him. Will eats steadily, and Hannibal resists the urge to pull Will onto his lap and feed him. There will be plenty of time for that later.

When Will has eaten every bite, Hannibal says, “Next is a shower.”

“Are you coming with me?” Will asks.

It seems that, having gotten a taste, young Will is insatiable. Which suits Hannibal just fine.

“I was planning to, unless you wish me not to.”

Will shakes his head. “No, I want you to.”

“Why don’t you go get in the shower, and I will join you once I’ve cleaned up breakfast?”

Will nods and heads to the bathroom. When he reaches the door, he looks over his shoulder, and the passion in his eyes is almost enough to make Hannibal abandon his task.

Will is proving to be a temptation that Hannibal must continually work to resist.

Finally, the meal is cleaned up and he no longer has to restrain himself. He shucks clothes as he goes. Normally, he would take the time to fold them, but even a man with as much self-control as Hannibal Lecter can only take so much provocation.

Will is standing under the spray of the shower, rinsing his hair. Water is sluicing off his tight body, and Hannibal can’t resist just observing for a few moments. Will has the muscles of someone who developed them through actual hard work, rather than repeated gym sessions, and Hannibal considers that he must ask Will more about his upbringing. His ass is a thing of beauty, and Hannibal growls under his breath at the idea of pulling those full cheeks apart and licking Will open.

All in good time.

Hannibal opens the door and Will turns towards him. His eyes immediately go to Hannibal’s cock.

“Jesus,” Will says quietly. “Where have you been hiding that thing, Dr. Lecter?”

“I don’t believe I’ve been hiding it,” Hannibal says mildly. “It’s just never come up in conversation before.”

Will groans. “I’m going to let that one slide because of how hard you made me come last night.”

“Probably a good idea, particularly if you’d like to come that hard again,” Hannibal purrs.

He steps towards Will and puts his arms around Will’s waist, pulling the two of them tightly together. His cock brushes against Will’s, and Will moans in his arms.

Hannibal kisses Will, wet and messy and perfect, as he reaches between them to catch both of their cocks in his hand.

Will gasps at the intense sensation of it.

“Have you ever been with a man before, Will?” Hannibal murmurs against Will’s mouth.

“Only girls,” Will says.

Hannibal smiles. It pleases him that no other man has sullied his Will. “Then you’ve never had this particular pleasure.”

Hannibal strokes both of them long and slow. Will leans against him for support as he gives himself over entirely to the sensation.

“God, Hannibal, that’s so good,” Will pants. “I never imagined it could--I never thought.”

Hannibal continues to stroke them, taking more pleasure from Will falling apart than he does from the physical sensation of his hand.

“I need to--oh, Daddy,” Will moans.

“You’re being so good for me, Will. You may come,” Hannibal whispers in his ear.

And Will is spilling himself all over Hannibal’s hand and stomach, as if he was just waiting for permission before the dam burst. Hannibal raises his hand to his mouth and licks off Will’s come, savoring the unique taste of it.

Before he realizes what’s happening, Will drops to his knees in front of Hannibal. Hannibal just looks down at him, trying to memorize the moment so he can memorialize it on paper later. Will holds Hannibal’s gaze steady as he slides his warm mouth around Hannibal’s length.

Hannibal tips his head back and hisses. His self-control weakens as Will’s inexpert mouth surrounds him. The sheer enthusiasm Will brings to the enterprise is intoxicating.

Will’s throat tightens around Hannibal’s cock, and Will gags. Hannibal pulls back, not wanting to hurt Will.

“Take it slow,” Hannibal instructs. Will looks up and nods, Hannibal’s cock still in his mouth. 

Will wraps his hand around Hannibal, using hand and mouth together to pleasure him. The combination of the two completely breaks down what’s left of Hannibal’s self-control, and he barely has time to pull away before he’s coming all over Will’s face.

Will closes his eyes and licks his lips, moaning a little as he tastes Hannibal’s release. 

Hannibal is entirely captivated with the young man kneeling at his feet. And in that moment, Hannibal knows he will never willingly be away from Will Graham again.


	9. Chapter 9

When they get out of the shower, Hannibal takes a fluffy towel and begins drying Will off. Will stands, compliant, as he’s dried. He can’t help but stare at Hannibal’s gorgeous face, water still dripping from his high cheekbones. 

Will thinks of how amazing it had felt when Hannibal painted his face with his release. He moans a bit with the memory.

“Good thoughts, sweet boy?” Hannibal asks as he continues to dry Will.

Will bites his lower lip and nods. “Yes, Daddy.”

Hannibal growls and pulls Will close for a kiss. “I will never tire of hearing you call me that,” he says.

As if to prove his point, Hannibal’s cock is stirring against Will’s leg. 

Jesus. Hannibal’s refractory period might be shorter than Will’s.

Nope, wait. Just the thought of it has Will’s cock interested once again.

“Do your plans for today involve me getting dressed?” Will asks, hoping to distract himself. If they’re going to be leaving the room, he’ll need to calm down sooner rather than later.

“Actually, no. At least not for some time,” Hannibal says with a smirk. He’s drying himself now, and he even looks hot doing that. “I rather thought I might see how many times in a row I can make you orgasm.”

Will gawks at him for a moment, trying to reconcile the sex god in front of him with his typically refined and restrained professor.

“Unless you are not amenable to that?” Hannibal asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Oh, I’m amenable,” Will breathes, unable to tear his gaze from Hannibal’s.

“Then come to bed with me, gorgeous boy, and let me show you exactly what I have in mind.”

Hannibal cups Will’s ass as he directs him towards the bed. Hannibal encourages Will to lay down and then just stands back, as if he’s admiring him.

“I must sketch you, and soon,” Hannibal says, “but I do not have the patience right now. I don’t know what it will take to satisfy my hunger for you, Will.”

“I’m more than happy to help you find out,” Will says with a grin.

Hannibal smiles back and crawls onto the bed, covering Will’s body with his. “Tell me, Will. When you imagine us together, are you fucking me or am I fucking you?”

Will’s speechless for a minute, both from hearing Hannibal swear and from just how hot the question is.

“I’m open to both.”

“That’s not what I asked, Will,” Hannibal purrs in his ear. “When you fantasize about me, who is inside whom?”

Will arches against him, desperate for some friction against his cock. “You. You’re fucking me.”

Hannibal smiles against Will’s lips. “Do you want me to do that?”

Will knows there’s a look of fear in his eyes when he responds, “Yes, but I’m a little nervous about it. I’ve never had--I’ve never done…”

“Do you trust me, Will?” Hannibal asks, pulling back so he can look Will in the eyes.

“Yes,” Will whispers. 

“Good,” Hannibal says. He begins to kiss his way slowly down Will’s body, making sure to pay attention to his sensitive nipples. Will arches himself against Hannibal as he moves closer to Will’s cock. He’s expecting another of Hannibal’s amazing blow jobs, but Hannibal clearly has other plans.

He pushes Will’s legs back so he’s entirely exposed, his tight pucker on display. It’s a part of himself that no one’s ever seen before, and the way Hannibal is looking at it strikes Will as deliciously obscene.

Nothing can prepare him for what comes next, though. Hannibal situates himself between Will’s legs, and then he feels hot breath on his skin. Will can’t contain a moan as Hannibal lightly runs his tongue over his hole.

“Relax,” Hannibal says, rubbing Will’s leg muscles which are, like the rest of him, tensed up. “I’m going to make you feel so good, sweetheart.”

Will has no idea how he’s supposed to relax when Hannibal is doing such amazingly filthy things to him, but he certainly tries. It doesn’t get any easier, though, as Hannibal begins to gently suck at Will. Will’s shocked at how good it feels to have Hannibal’s tongue caressing his ass. Slowly, he’s able to focus on the pleasure more than the embarrassment. Hannibal seems willing to stay down there as long as it takes.

“That’s better, Will,” Hannibal praises, feeling how Will’s muscles are relaxing. “You’re doing so well for Daddy.”

The praise runs over Will like a physical sensation, emanating from his heart throughout his entire body. All he ever wants to do is to be so good for Hannibal.

Hannibal spears his tongue and gently presses inside Will. Will has to focus on not tightening up again with this new sensation. It’s easier this time, mostly because what Hannibal’s tongue is doing just feels so fucking good.

Hannibal continues to eat Will out, pressing his tongue in as far as it will go, until Will feels loose and sloppy and amazing.

Hannibal raises a hand towards Will, pointing his index and middle fingers. “Suck,” he commands.

And how could Will do anything except pull Hannibal’s fingers into his mouth? He caresses them with his tongue and Hannibal hisses.

“Beautiful. Get them good and wet, sweet boy.”

Will obeys, sucking sloppily on Hannibal’s fingers until Hannibal determines they’re wet enough. He withdraws his hand and Will feels pressure against his hole.

“Tell me if I’m hurting you,” Hannibal says, and Will nods.

Hannibal begins pressing his finger inside Will, going extremely slowly. Will can feel himself opening just enough to allow Hannibal’s welcome intrusion, his walls pressing back against Hannibal’s finger.

“You’re so tight,” Hannibal murmurs, and leans in to lick around his finger. He continues the slow slide until he’s all the way inside.

“How are you doing, sweetheart?” Hannibal asks, looking up at Will.

“I need you to move,” Will says. It comes out as more of a whine than he intended.

Hannibal chuckles darkly. “I suspected you would take to this,” he says, pulling his finger out and then sliding it back in again. Will feels out of control in the best possible way as Hannibal touches him in places no one else ever has.

Hannibal takes his time working Will open before he adds a second finger. The burning sensation increases, but not enough to dim Will’s pleasure. Before he even realizes it, he’s grinding himself on Hannibal’s fingers, trying to get them further inside.

Hannibal turns his hand a bit and Will feels his fingers graze--something. The sensation of that something has Will crying out as he bucks his hips.

“Was that my prostate?” he whispers.

Hannibal hums in confirmation. “Did you like it?” he asks, looking at Will as if he’s greedy for his reaction.

“More, please,” Will gasps.

Hannibal fucks Will with his fingers, occasionally grazing his prostate, until Will is a writhing mess. Finally, Hannibal takes pity on Will and wraps a hand around Will’s cock. He’s so overstimulated that all it takes is three strokes before he’s coming all over his stomach and Hannibal’s hand.

“Exquisite,” Hannibal says as he pulls himself up next to Will. “Utterly exquisite.”

All Will can manage is a weak moan as he turns to press his lips to Hannibal’s.

Never in his life has he felt anything even approaching the intensity of the sensations Hannibal just pulled out of him. He’s already dozing, his body in need of recovery, but he can’t wait to see what other delights Hannibal has in store for him.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay on this chapter! Damn day job gets in the way of everything I actually want to do.

Hannibal lets Will sleep for as long as he can bear it, before waking the boy up with long, slow kisses pressed to every part of his body. He smiles when he feels Will’s hand in his hair.

“Are you well rested?” Hannibal asks.

“That’s not the main emotion I’m feeling right now,” Will says raspily. Hannibal reaches between Will’s legs and feels his cock hardening.

Hannibal has rarely had lovers that could keep up with his stamina. As those lovers had merely been the means to satiate one of his lesser appetites, he’s never cared overmuch. Will Graham, though? Hannibal’s obsession with him will never weaken.

Hannibal stretches himself languidly over Will, reaching between them to grab both cocks in his hand. He adores the feeling of them rubbing against one another, and Will certainly seems to like it as well. Hannibal encourages Will to thrust into his fist, and Will is more than happy to oblige.

“Are you going to fuck me now?” Will says, looking up at Hannibal with hooded eyes.

“Is that not what I have been doing?” Hannibal asks, staring into those storm-blue eyes. “You Americans and your insistence that anything that doesn’t involve a penis penetrating something somehow doesn’t count.”

Will flushes, and Hannibal feels a bit bad for teasing the boy when he’s in such a vulnerable position. But Will wears the blush beautifully, so Hannibal does not feel too much guilt.

“Are you asking if I plan to penetrate you, Will?” Hannibal says.

Will nods.

“No,” Hannibal says simply.

Will’s face falls, and he looks like a kicked puppy. Hannibal can’t bear it.

“Not today, my darling. You’re not ready for me yet, and I do not want to have you like that until you are. Today, I will fill you with nothing but my fingers and my tongue. Are you amenable?”

Will no longer looks wounded; his desire is obvious.

“I will do anything that makes you happy,” he breathes. “If you want to take me rough, you can take me rough. If you want to prepare me for it, you can do that too. I will let you do  _ anything _ to me, Dr. Lecter.”

“Dr. Lecter?” Hannibal raises an eyebrow.

Will gives him a mischievous grin. “Daddy. I’ll let you do anything you want to me,  _ Daddy _ .”

Hannibal groans and thrusts into his hand, rubbing against Will’s cock. There’s something about hearing filthy things come out of Will’s mouth that turns him on like nothing else.

Will whines when Hannibal releases their cocks, but Hannibal has no intention of denying Will (or himself) pleasure. Hannibal rolls Will onto his side and maneuvers himself so his head is facing the bottom of the bed. He pulls Will towards him and swallows his thick length, savoring the unique smell of Will that surrounds him.

Will catches on quickly, and pulls back the foreskin to lick Hannibal’s sensitive head. It takes all of Hannibal’s formidable willpower to focus on sucking Will’s cock.

They lay like this for what might be minutes or hours. Hannibal luxuriates in the taste of Will’s pre-come on his tongue. He fondles Will’s balls, and Will manages only a single groan around Hannibal’s cock before he’s spilling himself down Hannibal’s throat. Hannibal swallows Will’s release, and the taste of it sends him over the edge as well. His beautiful boy doesn’t spill a single drop.

Hannibal crawls up next to Will, who nestles against him and presses his face to Hannibal’s neck.

“You did so very well, my darling,” Hannibal murmurs into Will’s hair. “I hope I have not filled you up too much, as I had hoped to take you out for dinner.”

_...and make the rest of the world jealous of what only I have. _

“I could eat,” Will says, smiling up at Hannibal. “What should I wear?”

He wants his Will in soft fabrics, so he dresses him in cashmere and merino wool. He curses himself for not purchasing shoes and socks when they went shopping; Will was so close to wearing only those things Hannibal bought for him. 

Hannibal, dressed in a three-piece suit, takes Will’s hand as they exit the hotel room. He wants everyone to know to whom Will belongs.

He wants to show Will off.

Hannibal has ordered far too much food, because he likes to watch the wonder in Will’s eyes as he tries new things. So far, Will has determined that he prefers mussels to oysters, but he can’t decide between lamb and veal.

Hannibal can’t wait to cook for Will. He wonders if it’s too early in the relationship to ask Will to move in with him. He’s brought back down to earth by the fact that he will be Will’s professor for at least another semester, which means they cannot flaunt their relationship. Not only is it against university policy; what worries Hannibal more is that people will think that Will’s grades are due to his relationship with the professor, rather than realizing Will’s brilliance.

He has no more than acknowledged the need for discretion than he hears a familiar, and thoroughly unwelcome, voice.

“Hannibal. I must say I’m not surprised to run into you here.”

“Frederick,” Hannibal says with a tilt of his head. “How have you been?”

There is no need to be rude, after all.

“Well,” Dr. Chilton says. “My book on the Chesapeake Ripper comes out next month. I think you’ll find it very interesting.”

Frederick Chilton has been pursuing the Ripper for years. It brings no small amount of glee for Hannibal to leave dead ends and false paths for Chilton to obsess over.

“Do you have a suspect?”

“I have more than a suspect,” Chilton declares. “I have unmasked the Ripper himself.”

Will glances up, looking at Chilton for the first time. “Who is it?” he asks breathlessly.

Hannibal will not have anyone except him make Will go breathless.

“Do tell us, Frederick,” he urges.

Chilton purses his lips prissily. “And who is your dinner partner, Hannibal?”

Will glances down at the table, obviously self-conscious, and Hannibal has the overwhelming need to put Chilton in his place. 

“This is my teaching assistant, Will Graham. Don’t fret, Frederick. He will not give away your secret prior to the publication of your book."

“No, I would never,” Will says. 

Hannibal is momentarily distracted, considering what part of Frederick Chilton he would like to serve to Will the most. Possibly his offensive tongue.

Chilton looks mollified, and it’s clear he wants to show off for Hannibal’s benefit. “There’s a man in the BSHCI by the name of Dr. Abel Gideon. He was a surgeon before he was arrested for killing his wife and her family. I believe him to be the Chesapeake Ripper, and I’ve made quite a good case for it, if I do say so myself.”

“What a coincidence that you are investigating the Ripper,” Hannibal says evenly. “That is the topic of my seminar class next semester.”

He knows Will’s eyes are on him, feels Will’s foot tapping excitedly. But Will does not want to have a conversation in front of Dr. Chilton.

“If you call my girl, perhaps she can find some time for me to give a guest lecture,” Chilton says magnanimously.

Hannibal pretends to consider. “I will keep that in mind. Now, if you will excuse us, Frederick, we must be getting back to our dinner.”


	11. Chapter 11

“Is next semester’s seminar really about the Chesapeake Ripper?” Will asks as soon as Dr. Chilton is out of earshot. 

“Yes,” Hannibal says with a smile. “I didn’t know you had such an interest in the Ripper, Will.”

“I mean, anyone in abnormal psych is going to be fascinated by him. The care he takes in presenting his kills, the fact that he hasn’t been caught after all this time. What he creates almost rises to the level of art.”

There’s a fleeting look in Hannibal’s eyes as if he’s affronted, but it’s gone as soon as it appears.

“You must think me macabre,” Will says, looking at Hannibal, “talking about a serial killer as an artist.”

“On the contrary, dear Will, I agree with your view. The Chesapeake Ripper clearly intends for the tableaux he creates to have a deeper meaning. His medium may be gruesome, but I think you’re correct in identifying his view as, ultimately, an artistic one. An exploration of humanity through death. It’s one of the many incongruities surrounding the Ripper that I hope to explore.”

Will is rendered momentarily speechless at how utterly brilliant Hannibal is. Most people would have a knee-jerk reaction of horror. Hannibal, on the other hand, sees it as an opportunity to learn more about the human condition.

Hannibal gives Will a small smile. It feels like a secret shared only by the two of them. Will suspects it’s not the last secret they’ll share.

“How are we going to handle this when we get back?” Will blurts out. It’s not elegantly phrased, but he needs to know the answer as soon as possible. “Or is this a ‘what happens at the conference stays at the conference’ situation?”

Hannibal takes Will’s hand and discreetly brings it to his lips, pressing kisses to Will’s knuckles. “My darling boy, now that I’ve had you, I cannot possibly be expected to give you up.”

Will knows that a relationship between the two of them will be problematic, at least for a while, but his heart nonetheless soars at Hannibal’s words.

“It just so happens that I am in the process of purchasing the house that I’ve been renting. We shall have to be discreet about arrivals and departures. Fortunately, the house has an attached garage.”

Will can’t respond for a moment. Hannibal is buying a house? Does that mean he’s decided to take the faculty position?

“Are you moving for good, then?” he asks. 

Hannibal chuckles. “You will discover that I am a man of means, dear Will. It is true I am planning to teach at your school for at least another year after this, but I will maintain my house in Baltimore. Perhaps once you’ve graduated I can tempt you towards Johns Hopkins for your graduate work.”

Will’s cheeks flush red. “I don’t know if I’ll have the money to go to Hopkins,” he says. “Even assuming I can get in.”

“I have no doubt you will be accepted, and I suspect you will receive ample aid to attend. However, to put your mind at ease, allow me to reiterate that I am more than capable of financing your education, should the need arise.”

Will feels almost dizzy at how far Hannibal is looking into the future–a future he sees Will in. It should frighten him, but all it does is excite him to think that Hannibal is so certain of their relationship that he’s willing to make plans that far in the future.

“Why me?” Will whispers.

Hannibal stares at Will for a moment before he softly says, “You cannot see your own exceptionalism, can you, Will?”

“I don’t think I’m very exceptional. Not for any good reasons. Exceptionally weird, maybe.”

“Never in my life have I met a person who captivates me like you, Will. I would give everything I own to call you mine, even for a moment.”

“But you have so many better options. Better-suited, at least. Someone who’s beautiful and sophisticated like you.”

“Let me tell you a secret, darling boy: sophistication is often the veneer over truly enormous personality defects. But even if that was not the case, I would choose you. Your mind works like none other, and you are the single most beautiful creature I have ever beheld.”

Will’s eyebrows furrow. He doesn’t think that Hannibal would lie to him, but at the same time, he can’t reconcile the person Hannibal is describing with himself.

“Let us return to the hotel, and I will demonstrate my devotion,” Hannibal says.

That’s certainly an offer Will can’t refuse.

When they return to the hotel room, Hannibal removes his jacket and rolls up his sleeves. He looks somehow even more professorial in just his vest and slacks, and Will can’t refrain from staring at him in complete awe.

“Tonight, I will treat you as you ought to be treated,” Hannibal says, holding a hand out for Will. “But first, some ground rules. Can you be a good boy and follow my rules, Will?”

Will most decidedly can, especially when Hannibal phrases it like that. He nods.

“The most important rule is that you are not allowed to touch me.”

Will swallows down a whine at the condition. He never suspected that Hannibal would give him a task that was so monumentally impossible.

“The second rule is that you are to tell me immediately if I do anything you don’t like. Are you clear on the rules, Will?”

Will nods. It will be difficult to keep his hands off Hannibal, but he will do whatever he has to to please Hannibal.

“ _ Mylimasis _ ,” Hannibal says, “my beloved boy, you are everything to me.”

Hannibal undresses him then, removing the soft garments that he purchased, until Will is standing naked in the middle of the room. He feels exposed, being entirely nude while Hannibal is still dressed, but he knows he’s safe in Hannibal’s hands.

Hannibal falls to his knees in front of Will and takes Will into his mouth. Unlike their previous frenzied couplings, this time Hannibal sucks Will long and slow. Hannibal keeps his eyes locked on Will’s, and it feels so intimate to have Hannibal watching him intently.

“God, that feels good,” Will groans, his hands fisting in Hannibal’s hair. 

Hannibal stills and it takes Will a moment to realize he’s breaking one of the rules.

“I’m sorry,” he says, letting go of Hannibal’s fine hair. “I forgot.”

It’s clear that all is forgiven when Hannibal once again swallows Will down, teasing him with his talented tongue. 

Hannibal is making the blowjob so sloppy that Will can feel his balls are wet. The ramifications of that hit him, and hard–Hannibal Lecter, genius, aesthete sophisticate Hannibal Lecter, is currently on his knees drooling around Will’s cock.

He doesn’t even have time to warn Hannibal before he comes. Hannibal doesn’t seem surprised; in fact, he hums in satisfaction as Will empties himself into Hannibal’s throat.

Will sways a bit as he tries to pull himself back under control. Hannibal is on his feet in a moment, holding Will tightly to him.

“My darling, my sweet boy,” Hannibal whispers. “I would suffer any indignity for you.”

Such a promise might sound strange coming from someone else, but Will suspects Hannibal resents indignity above all things. To make an offer such as that to Will? How can he possibly doubt Hannibal’s sincerity after that?


	12. Chapter 12

They sleep late the next morning, any vague notion of actually attending the conference gone. Honestly, Hannibal hasn’t been overly impressed with the presentations that he’s seen so far; the conference had been more about getting Will right where he was supposed to be.

Mission accomplished, Hannibal thinks smugly.

He leans up on an elbow and watches his Will sleep. The boy always looks young, but while he’s sleeping, he looks utterly angelic. The line between his eyes smooths and his lashes flutter as he dreams.

Hannibal hopes Will is dreaming about him.

They had spent much of the previous night entwined, Hannibal savoring every inch of Will’s body, and Will giving himself over willingly.

Will certainly deserves a reward for the trust he puts in Hannibal. But what? 

His eyes stray to Will’s phone, several generations old and with a cracked screen, and he can’t believe he hasn’t already bought a new one.

That will have to be remedied as soon as Will awakens.

Hannibal maintains his resolve to let Will sleep for exactly eight minutes before he kisses his boy awake.

“Daddy,” Will says, his eyes half open and his smile full of promise. “I missed you.”

It goes to Hannibal’s heart like an arrow of pure joy. He can’t believe that this beautiful creature in front of him is his.

God help the person who tries to take Will away from him.

“Good morning,  _ mylimasis _ ,” he says gently.

“That’s the second time you called me that. Is it Lithuanian? What does it mean?”

“It’s Lithuanian for ‘beloved’, which is what you are to me,” Hannibal says, leaning in to kiss Will again.

Will is quiet for a minute.

“What is it?” Hannibal asks.

“I would do anything for you,” Will whispers. “ _ Anything _ . And I’ve never felt that way about anyone before. Not even my dad. It scares me a little.”

“But is it not also thrilling?” Hannibal says. “There has been only one other person in my life that I would die for, and she is long dead. You’ve awoken my heart, darling.”

Will sniffles, and a tear falls down his cheek. “But what if you leave?” he says.

Hannibal instantly understands where this is coming from. “Who abandoned you, Will?” he asks.

Will bites his lower lip, working to get his tears under control before he answers. “My mother. I don’t have any memory of her, but I still feel the loss of her acutely.”

“She died?” Hannibal guesses.

Will shakes his head. “Nope. She just left.”

Hannibal sits back and thinks for a moment. No wonder Will has abandonment issues.

“Listen now,” Hannibal says, wiping a tear from Will’s cheek. “I will never leave you. Never. You are too precious to me.”

“Why does this conversation feel like wedding vows?” Will asks, his eyes locking on Hannibal’s.

Hannibal kisses his hand. “As far as I’m concerned, that’s precisely what it is. Does that frighten you?”

Will shakes his head, his curls bouncing adorably. “No. It feels perfect. It feels like coming home.”

Hannibal opens his arms then and welcomes his lover to exactly where he belongs.

“No way. You can’t buy me a phone.”

Will has come to a standstill outside the store, and he’s obstinately shaking his head.

“Will,” Hannibal says, trying to keep the exasperation out of his voice, “I fail to see how this is any different than the other things you’ve allowed me to purchase for you.”

Will chews on his bottom lip. “It’s just such a big purchase. You don’t have to spend all this money on me.”

“If you can honestly tell me that you dislike me buying things for you, I’ll stop. But admit it, Will. It’s not about the money. You enjoy me taking care of you, and I enjoy doing it, so why should either of us deny ourselves?”

Hannibal almost adds that the phone costs less than a lot of single items of clothing he’s already purchased for Will, but stops when he realizes it’s unlikely to advance his case. It will just make Will feel guilty about the clothes too.

He draws close so he can whisper in Will’s ear. “Let Daddy take care of you, Will.”

And his beautiful boy, his headstrong, brilliant boy, absolutely melts into Hannibal’s arms.

“Okay, Daddy,” he whispers, and his acquiescence is like a salve for Hannibal’s soul.

Twenty minutes later, Will has a new phone that he can’t stop looking at. 

“The man said it’s an unlimited data plan. Like, unlimited-unlimited?”

Hannibal chuckles. “As opposed to limited-unlimited? Indeed.”

“And you’re certain you want me on your plan?”

“Will, what did we talk about before we went into the store?”

“We talked about Daddy taking care of me,” Will says with a twinkle in his eyes.

“Exactly. Now, what does my boy want for lunch?”


	13. Chapter 13

“Your room. _Now_.”

Will has just walked through the door when he’s accosted by a very animated Beverly.

“Jesus, Bev, let me get settled.”

“Nope,” she says, her eyes flashing. “Either we talk in your room, or we talk out here in front of Zee and Jimmy, and I suspect you don’t want that.”

“Hey,” protests Jimmy, more because he thinks he should than because he’s actually offended.

“I don’t wanna know,” Zee deadpans.

Will sighs and motions for Bev to proceed him into his room, following her and closing the door behind them.

“You fucking _slut_ ,” Bev says, admiration in her voice. “You _fucked_ Dr. Sexy?”

Will massages his temples, unready for this conversation. He has no idea how Bev knows what happened between him and Hannibal, but that’s lower down on his list of concerns. “First of all, what the hell do you think these walls are made of? Why drag me in here if you’re just going to shout loud enough for the entire building to hear? And second, nobody has gotten fucked yet, although there might be some contention about the definition of ‘fucking.’”

“I need details,” Bev says, throwing herself onto Will’s bed as if she was preparing to hear a bedtime story. “Is he good? Is he big? I bet it’s huge.”

“Last I knew, you had no interest in dick, Bev.”

“Seems like you’re interested enough for the both of us,” Bev grins. “And is that a new coat?”

Will’s face gets hot and he suddenly has no idea where to look. 

“Oh, god, he’s fucking you _and_ he’s dressing you? That’s so goddamn hot, Will, I might need to get myself off to the thought of it tonight.”

“You’re a terrible lesbian, Bev,” Will says.

She sticks her tongue out at him. “I have plenty of references that would say otherwise. What else? Does he make you call him Daddy?”

Will’s unable to get his face in order quickly enough.

“Oh my god!” Bev screeches, lying on her back and kicking her feet in the air in excitement. “This is the best romance novel ever.”

“First off, I want it stated for the record that he doesn’t make me do anything I don’t want,” Will says. 

“Fine,” Bev says. “But _do_ you call him Daddy?”

She dissolves into giggles again when he doesn’t immediately deny it.

“Bev,” Will says, a note of warning in his voice, “Hannibal could be sanctioned for this. Hell, he could be fired for it. This isn’t something we can make a big deal about.”

Bev grabs one of his pillows and screams into it. “Ugh, fine,” she says, setting the pillow back down. “I’ll be discreet. Just answer the question about his cock, Will, _please_?”

> H: How is my boy?
> 
> W: I miss you, Daddy.
> 
> H: I miss you, too, my darling. What are you doing?
> 
> W: Just lying in bed.
> 
> H: That sounds promising. Are you thinking of me?
> 
> W: I’ve thought about you every second since I saw you last.
> 
> H: And I you, dearest. Will you touch yourself for me?
> 
> W: I already am.
> 
> H: Very good, Will. I am going to tell you a story. Your only tasks are to read what I write and to stroke that gorgeous cock of yours. Understood?
> 
> W: Yes, Daddy.
> 
> H: I want you to imagine you and I are alone in my classroom. I unzip your pants and pull them down just below your perfect ass.
> 
> H: You’re already plugged, full of my release from earlier that morning. I play with the plug, teasing you, making you beg.
> 
> H: And you beg so beautifully, Will, that I spend a little extra time fucking you with the plug just to hear you.
> 
> H: I pull the plug out and it makes the most deliciously filthy sound as I remove it. Then I lean you over my desk and slide two fingers into you. They slide in easily, because you’ve been ready for me for hours. I fuck you with my fingers until you’re begging for permission to come, but I don’t let you.
> 
> H: Finally, when you don’t think you can take anymore, I pull out my cock and stuff you full. Your tight channel is so hot that I have to still for a moment or this will be over too soon.
> 
> H: You’re making those beautiful little breathy noises I love so much as I fuck you hard. Your cock is feeling very neglected, but you’re almost too distracted by my cock in your ass to notice.
> 
> H: Almost.
> 
> H: I’m fucking you so hard that the desk is moving forward a bit with every thrust. And you’re moaning beneath me like the little whore you are-- _my_ little whore, Will. 
> 
> H: Finally, I reach around to stroke your neglected cock. I whisper one word in your ear: “Come.” You've forgotten you were waiting for permission, but once you receive it, you ejaculate, and I use your own spend to continue stroking until it’s almost too much for you.
> 
> H: Before you’re even finished, I’m pumping you full of my seed. When we’re done, I replace the plug into your well-fucked hole so you’ll be ready for me the next time I decide I want you.
> 
> H: Then you pull your pants up just in time for the other students to begin arriving for class. You sit there, full of what I’ve given you, while I teach the class as if nothing out of the ordinary has occurred.
> 
> W: Daddy?
> 
> H: Yes, baby?
> 
> W: It’s probably a good thing you got me the waterproof phone.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, look who's here. Things have been running so smoothly for our boys, but a certain Miss Lounds has arrived to throw a wrench in the works.

Will is straddling Hannibal’s lap, teasing him with light kisses until Hannibal draws Will close and takes what he wants, kissing him long and deep. Will groans, grinding himself against Hannibal, desperate for friction.

Hannibal moves his mouth to Will’s throat, nipping his way down the column to suck a bruise at the base of his neck. 

“Daddy, that feels so good,” Will moans. “Mark me up. Show them who I belong to.”

Of course, that isn’t an option, but people will know that Will belongs to  _ someone _ , and that’s good enough for Hannibal.

Hannibal is darkening the bruise on Will’s pale skin when there’s a knock on his office door, followed almost immediately by the turning of the doorknob.

Will is off Hannibal’s lap in an instant, flinging himself onto the couch. Hannibal has just hidden his legs and lap under the desk as the door swings open.

A slight woman with curly red hair walks in and favors Hannibal with a sparkling, disingenuous smile.

“Dr. Lecter. It’s such an honor,” she says.

“I wish I could say the same. Unfortunately, as you can see, I am already in the midst of a meeting. If you had waited before letting yourself into my office, I might have saved you the trouble, Miss…?”

“Lounds. Freddie Lounds,” she says, holding out her hand. She looks thoroughly unrepentant, staring at him with unnervingly big blue eyes.

Hannibal tamps down his annoyance, even as it mixes nauseatingly with the desire he was feeling just moments before.

“I can leave,” Will says.

Hannibal smiles at him. His dear boy would never display the shocking lack of manners that Miss Lounds has.

“Nonsense, Will. You scheduled this time to talk about your final paper with me, and we have not yet found a satisfactory conclusion. I’m sure Miss Lounds can schedule a time with the department secretary.”

“Of course, Dr. Lecter,” Miss Lounds says, her eyes moving from Will to Hannibal. There’s a predatory glint in her eye that Hannibal doesn’t appreciate one bit.

“I trust you can see yourself out,” Hannibal says, the tone of his voice causing Will to visibly shiver.

“Certainly,” the woman says, closing the door behind her.

“Now, where were we?” Hannibal asks as Will throws himself back into his Daddy’s lap.

Hannibal is irritated to see that Freddie Lounds has scheduled with him for the very next day. She isn’t one of his students, and, thus, he can’t imagine why she desires to waste his time.

She’s there on the dot, knocking on the office door even though it’s open.

“Please come in,” Hannibal says, gesturing for the chair across from him. “What can I do for you, Miss Lounds?”

She closes the door behind her, and all of Hannibal’s senses are suddenly on high alert. This woman is a harpy and he needs to keep his wits about him around her. She sits in the chair and pretends to tug down her short skirt, in the process just giving him a better view of her thigh.

“I hear you’re teaching a seminar on the Chesapeake Ripper next semester,” she says. “I was hoping to secure a place in that seminar.”

“Which department are you with?” Hannibal asks. He knows she’s not a psychology student.

“Journalism,” she responds, “but my area of focus is true crime.”

Hannibal has to consciously keep his upper lip from curling in disdain at that. Vultures picking at the kills left for them by their betters. “What makes you think that my seminar will be helpful for you?” he asks.

“Well, the more I can get inside the head of someone like the Chesapeake Ripper, the better I can write about him,” she says. “His patterns, his motivations. Where he might strike next.”

“Please clarify for me, Miss Lounds. It almost sounds as if you’re hoping to catch the Chesapeake Ripper.”

She laughs. It’s light but humorless. “If only. I just want to understand him.”

“I’m afraid that taking my seminar will not be a possibility,” Hannibal says, savoring the disappointment in Freddie’s eyes. “We’re already at wait-list status, and I have several psychology graduate students who are on that list. I cannot make an exception for someone outside the department.”

“But you can make an exception for a junior?” Freddie says sharply.

Hannibal steeples his fingers together as he looks at her. She’s brave, he’ll give her that. Self-destructively so.

“You know that I will not discuss current students with you,” he says. “Did you really hope to cow me with that accusation?”

He can see that her mind is already spinning up a new plot. She’s quite indefatigable, and he might admire that trait if she wasn’t currently being so bothersome.

“Isn’t there anything I can do to earn my place, sir?” she says, dropping to her knees in front of him and looking up at him with big eyes. “I can be a really good sport.”

Hannibal’s had enough. “This is just embarrassing, Miss Lounds. Stand up and remove yourself from my office. You’re fortunate that I do not plan to tell the ethics committee at the School of Journalism about this.”

She’s glaring daggers at him. “Just remember that I tried to do this the proper way, Dr. Lecter.”

And with that ominous statement, she turns on her heel and leaves, slamming the door behind her.

Hannibal sighs and begins filling out an incident report, on the off chance that she plans to make a false accusation against him. He’s only spoken to her for a few minutes, but he’s had more than enough of Miss Freddie Lounds.

Hannibal and Will are on the couch in the sitting room, cuddling and drinking wine that’s older than Will. 

“You might have some competition for my affection, mylimasis,” Hannibal murmurs into Will’s adorable curls.

He feels Will stiffen for a moment and pulls him close, kissing him until Will relaxes once again.

“Shhh,” Hannibal says. “It’s a joke, my sweet. No one could ever take me from you.”  _ And anyone who tries to take you from me will pay for it with their life. _

Will smiles at him. “What inspired this joke?”

Hannibal tells Will the story of Freddie’s failed attempt at seduction. By the time he finishes, Will is glowering instead of giggling.

“That bitch,” Will says, with a degree of possessiveness that goes straight to Hannibal’s cock. He’s never seen Will like this before, and he’d be lying if he said it didn’t turn him on.

Will puts down his wine glass and slides to the floor, positioning himself between Hannibal’s knees.

“I wish she was here to watch me do this and understand she doesn’t have a chance,” Will says, unbuttoning Hannibal’s pants and pulling them down.

He buries his face against Hannibal’s cock, taking deep breaths as if to take as many of his lover’s pheromones into himself as he can. Soon, pheromones aren’t enough, and Will is pulling down Hannibal’s briefs to swallow his cock in an unpracticed but devastatingly hot motion.

Hannibal grabs Will’s curls and holds him still while he thrusts into Will’s throat. Tears spill down Will’s cheeks, but he’s groaning around Hannibal’s cock all the same. Hannibal fucks his mouth, savoring the fact that this beautiful young man is all his.

“That’s it, Will,” Hannibal growls. “Take me so good, my darling. Take my thick cock.”

Will’s eyes squeeze closed and his hand moves to his own hard length. Normally, Hannibal would want to control when Will was allowed to touch himself, but Will is doing such an exceptional job deep-throating Hannibal that Hannibal feels an exception was in order.

Hannibal has always had impeccable self-control, but Will weakens that, makes Hannibal behave purely on the level of animal lust. Within a matter of minutes, he’s spilling down Will’s throat with a groan. Will swallows every drop, and then whispers, “Thank you, Daddy,” to Hannibal.

“Come here,” Hannibal growls, pulling Will onto his lap, Will’s back to Hannibal’s chest. He wraps his hand around Will’s cock and strokes him firm and fast until Will comes with a shout.

Neither of them are in any position to realize that they’re clearly visible through the sitting room window. The redhead on the other side of the street, armed with a telephoto lens, certainly notices.


	15. Chapter 15

Freddie slides into Hannibal Lecter’s seminar at the very last moment before class begins. Hannibal quirks an eyebrow towards her, but she’s banking on the fact that he won’t want to raise a fuss with the entire class watching. 

She turns her head to find Will Graham glowering at her. She raises her hand and wiggles her fingers at him, delighted at how utterly offended he looks.

Oh, these two. It’s this kind of moral failing that Freddie knows will keep her in business for years to come.

Hannibal gives the class an article to read and heads back towards Freddie.

“Miss Lounds, I really must insist you leave,” he says in a low voice.

“I don’t think so, Dr. Lecter. I have some photographs that might interest you. And your students, too, if you’d like? One student in particular. I believe the two of you are well-acquainted.”

His hand is like a vice around her arm as he drags her towards the door. She tries to loosen his grip to no avail. She’s going to bruise tomorrow. She’d never tell him--never let him know he’d injured her--but she momentarily wonders if she’ll be able to pick out individual finger marks.

That might be good to take to the dean, if need be. Freddie has no ethical concerns about her means of persuasion. The more, the merrier.

She’ll have to remember to document the bruise. But for now, she needs to get her head back into the game. Hannibal Lecter isn’t a babbling idiot, like most of the other people around here. She needs her wits about her.

He drags her into a doorway and she realizes he’s taking her into a camera blind spot. He really is smart. She’s momentarily impressed.

“What are you playing at?” he snarls at her. There’s something feral, almost unhinged, in him, and she feels a frisson of fear, like an antelope scenting a lion. But she’s no antelope. She’s a lioness, and if Lecter tests her, he’s going to regret it.

She shrugs nonchalantly. “You have something I want. I have something you want. Why don’t we make a mutually beneficial trade?”

“You spied on me,” he growls. “You violated my privacy.”

She snorts. “And you violated your student. Which do you think the university is going to be more concerned about?”

He backs off her then, and she can smell the fear on him. She knew she could make him see reason.

“It pains me to admit you are right,” he says. “The evidence you hold in your hands could destroy my career and do irreparable damage to someone I hold very dear.”

Freddie resists the urge to sneer; oh, she’s sure that Hannibal holds Will Graham dear, and it’s not at all about getting off on the power differential between him and his student.

“I am assuming these are not the only copies?” he asks hopefully.

As if she would be that stupid. What would he do if she was? Would he just try to wrestle them away from her, or would he take more desperate actions?

She hums and shakes her head. “Backed up to the cloud. Twice, I’m afraid.”

The fight goes out of him entirely and she nearly smiles when she sees it. “How do I know those pictures will be gone if I agree to give you a place in my class?”

“You have my word.”

His upper lip curls. “I must admit, Miss Lounds, that your word means less than nothing to me.”

“Well, it’s all you’re going to get,” she says, staring directly into those unsettling maroon eyes of his.

He sighs. “Very well. But this cannot be handled in public. Come for dinner at my house tonight at eight o’clock, and we’ll deal with it like civilized human beings. I trust you recall the address.”

She smiles sweetly at him. “It’s a date. Not the kind you prefer to go on with your students, sadly for you.”

The sneer is back. “Miss Lounds, I’d rather eat dinner with a rattlesnake.”

She rings the bell at the front door precisely at eight. She’s shocked when Will Graham opens the door, but quickly schools her features so it doesn’t show.

“Mr. Graham. I hadn’t expected to find you here tonight.”

“Miss Lounds,” he says, his voice dripping with poison, “if you think I’d leave you alone, in private, with Dr. Lecter, you’re sadly mistaken.”

She opens her eyes wide. “Well, that’s true. If he’d fuck you, chances are good he’d fuck me too, aren’t they? Jealous, Will?”

She can actually hear his back teeth grinding together. Oh, he will be fun to bait. She wonders if she can make him cry before she leaves.

“Miss Lounds,” Hannibal says, stepping out of the kitchen. He’s wearing his waistcoat and his shirtsleeves are rolled up. He’s also got on an apron which, Freddie has to admit, he’s totally pulling off.

“Dr. Lecter,” she says sweetly. “I was just speaking to your loyal lapdog.”

Hannibal frowns at her. “Miss Lounds, I invited you into my house. Would it be possible for you to refrain from thanking me through rudeness?”

She feels the slightest bit of guilt at that. She has nothing personally against Hannibal Lecter. In fact, she’s read much of his work and found it fascinating. And the man is certainly not the first to bed a student. In fact, Freddie had passed her Intro to Statistics course with quite a similar arrangement. 

“My apologies,” she says, although her voice sounds disingenuous, even to her.

“ _ Mylimasis _ , will you choose the wine?” Hannibal says to Will. Will nods, and as he’s walking into the kitchen, Hannibal catches him by the waist and presses a kiss to his lips. She could swear she hears Will whisper, “Yes, Daddy.”

What Freddie wouldn’t give to have her camera out. 

“Something light,” Hannibal says. “We don’t want to overpower the lamb.”

“You made lamb?” Freddie asks. “I should have mentioned I’m a vegetarian.”

“Lamb with ginger and garlic. A provincial meal, but a satisfying one,” he says.

“Did Will help you cook it?”

“He sliced the ginger. If you’ll follow me, Miss Lounds, I’ll show you to the table. Dinner will be delayed for a bit as I make a vegetarian plate for you.” He makes a face as if there’s little he can think of more distasteful than vegetarianism.

He can judge Freddie all he wants, as long as he gives her a spot in his class. Come to think of it, she should probably negotiate a guaranteed grade with him. She’ll never have this much leverage against him again. May as well make the most of it.

She sits in the seat Hannibal pulls out for her and nods at him. She uses the opportunity to take in everything in the room. It’s dark and thoroughly pretentious, particularly the lewd painting of a woman and swan above the fireplace. Freddie snorts quietly. 

She hears a creak behind her and turns her head. That’s when he strikes, wrapping something around her neck and tightening it. She claws at the garrote, knowing she only has a few seconds to save herself. She tries to hit behind her, but he’s far too fast for that.

“It didn’t have to be like this, but you just couldn’t help yourself, could you, Freddie?” he hisses in her ear. His voice is cold and entirely emotionless, and that, more than anything else, makes her realize she’s about to die.

He tightens the garrote once again, and the world is swimming in front of her. The last thing she sees is Hannibal entering the room and uttering a single word.

“Will.”


	16. Chapter 16

The sight of Hannibal brings Will back to himself again, the homicidal redness behind his eyes receding until the dining room once more takes on its dark blue tones. He looks at Freddie Lounds, face down on the table, and the ramifications of what he’s just done hit him like a brick wall.

He looks at Hannibal again, trying to gird himself for the disgust he knows he’s going to see in Hannibal’s eyes. 

This is it. Will has ruined everything in his life. He’s going to jail.

Hannibal opens his arms, and Will just stares at him, unable to parse what’s happening.

“Come here, my darling,” Hannibal says.

Will obeys, the numb feeling still lingering. Is Hannibal luring him over to subdue Will somehow? Will can’t even blame him, after what he’s just done.

Hannibal pulls Will close, making soothing noises into his hair. “It will be alright, Will,” he says. “Daddy is going to take care of this.”

Will looks up at Hannibal then, his eyes filling with frantic tears. “I don’t know what came over me,” he whispers. “She was just--she made me so angry, and I wanted to make her pay for the way she was treating you. And I had a spool of fishing line in my pocket, so I figured I’d scare her. But it wasn’t enough. I couldn’t stop.”

Hannibal kisses Will’s hair. “Darling, do you think it’s a coincidence that you’re doing your final paper on the Green River Killer? Do you really think the idea to strangle Miss Lounds came from your head and yours alone?”

Will’s brow wrinkles. He hadn’t considered that.

“Are you saying that I did this because I identify with Gary Ridgway?”

“I’m saying you are pure empath, my beautiful boy. You can’t help but take on characteristics of anyone whose personality you dive deep into, like you are with Ridgway.”

Will barks a humorless laugh. “I guess I better not take your seminar next semester, or I risk turning into the Chesapeake Ripper.”

Hannibal tilts Will’s chin up. “Or you could embrace it,” he whispers.

Will shakes his head. Embracing it would only lead to more deaths, and that can’t possibly be what Hannibal means.

“We will discuss this further later,” Hannibal says in a matter-of-fact tone. “First, we must deal with Miss Lounds, who continues to be as much of an inconvenience in death as she was in life.”

Will nods, already starting to dissociate in an entirely different way than he did when he killed Freddie.

When he killed another human being.

Hannibal holds Will’s face in his hands, gently forcing Will to look at him. Will is dazed, but he knows Hannibal is his only anchor at this point.

“Do you trust me, Will?” Hannibal asks, his voice intense.

“Yes,” Will says. It’s the simple truth.

“Do you trust me enough not to ask all the questions that are going to occur to you over the next few days?”

Will whines. It’s in his nature to question. He’s not sure he can refrain.

“I know the difficulty of what I am asking of you, Will,” Hannibal says. “I will tell you everything soon, but for now, I just need your trust.”

“Yes,” Will repeats. “I trust you, Daddy.”

Hannibal presses a kiss to Will’s forehead. “There’s my good boy,” he says. “I want you to go upstairs and take a shower. Set a timer on your phone and stay in there for thirty minutes. At that time, I will be there to take care of you.”

Will stares at Hannibal for a moment and then nods.

“Do you want me to start the shower for you?” Hannibal asks.

Part of Will wants to say yes, because he’s unsure of his ability to do even basic tasks at the moment. But he knows Hannibal plans to do something to fix this situation, and he figures the least he can do is turn on the shower.

“No.”

“I’ll be back with you very soon, Will,” Hannibal says.

Will nods before robotically climbing the stairs towards the master suite.

When there are two minutes left on his timer, he hears Hannibal enter the bathroom. Will turns from where he’s been facing the wall in the waterfall shower, and marvels that Hannibal looks almost as put together as usual, aside from his hair falling over his forehead. Other than that, it’s impossible to tell that Hannibal Lecter had just done… something with a dead body.

_ How did he dispose of it so quickly? _

But Hannibal told Will not to ask questions, so Will doesn’t.

Hannibal begins stripping down once he sees that Will is still in the shower. Will doesn’t even have the mental bandwidth to enjoy the view.

The glass door opens, and Hannibal is in the shower next to him. 

“Did you wash?” he asks gently.

Will stares at him for a moment and then shakes his head.

“Let me wash your hair,” Hannibal says, retrieving an herbal-smelling shampoo and massaging it through Will’s hair. Will lets him do it, enjoying the feel of Hannibal’s skilled hands. Usually he’d be hoping that Hannibal would put those hands somewhere more interesting, but for now, he’s savoring the calm feeling this brings him.

“Can you tell me how you feel?” Hannibal asks him.

Will draws in a breath that turns into a sob. “Terrified. Worried. Guilty.”

“Are you really feeling guilty, or are you just feeling that way because you think you ought to? Don’t answer before you’ve given the question some thought.”

Will does, and he finds that, although he is full of the fear of getting caught, he doesn’t actually feel bad about what he did. Freddie was a bad person, and she would have gone on doing terrible things. If Will was being entirely honest with himself, he’s not sorry she’s dead.

“I don’t feel guilty,” he says, his voice cracking on the last word.

“Nor should you, my dearest,” Hannibal whispers in his ear. “For we are gods, and they are mere mortals.”

Hannibal is certainly a god; Will has no doubt about that. But is  _ he _ also a god? If anyone knows, it would be Hannibal.

“We are not bound by their insignificant laws and mores,” Hannibal continues, his voice so soft it almost seems like it’s coming from within Will’s head. “We create our own reality, and they may live in it, until they offend. Once they do, we will remove them from our utopia.”

Will wants to agree with Hannibal. Everything will be so much easier if he just agrees. And isn’t what Hannibal is saying true? Aren’t he and Hannibal capable of so much more than the average human?

“Why should we not take what we want?” Hannibal whispers.

Why, indeed?

Will relaxes against Hannibal. It’s so simple. How did he not see it before? Hannibal will take care of him and ensure everything is okay. All he has to do is trust Hannibal.

Strong hands run soap over Will’s body, moving only to clean him, not to excite him. It is so very soothing to lean against Hannibal and let himself be taken care of.

Will doesn’t even protest when Hannibal dries him off and then picks Will up to carry him to bed. Hannibal lies down next to him and puts a protective arm around Will. Will falls asleep with just one thought on his mind--how very much his Daddy loves him.


	17. Chapter 17

Will looks so peaceful that Hannibal almost hates to wake him. But not all parts of his Will are at rest--his cock is hard, and Hannibal only has so much self-restraint.

He crawls under the blankets and gently takes Will’s cock in his mouth, savoring the taste and smell of his beloved. He can tell the exact moment Will awakens. There’s a sudden alertness to his muscles, and then he relaxes and Hannibal feels Will’s hand in his hair, not directing, just carding through the strands.

“Good morning, my darling,” Hannibal says, before returning to the task at hand.

“Good morning, Daddy,” Will replies. “That feels amazing.”

“Just relax and let me take care of you.”

Will hums and Hannibal is gratified to feel all the tension drain out of him.

Hannibal keeps his motions slow and gentle, more of a caress of Will’s cock than an attempt to bring him to completion. They will get there, but he suspects Will is due to remember the previous night any time now.

After several lazy minutes of Hannibal sucking and Will moaning, it happens. Will’s entire body goes stiff.

“Shhh,” Hannibal says, rubbing a soothing hand up and down Will’s side. “Daddy took care of everything, remember?”

“But what if we get caught? What if you get blamed for what I did? You didn’t ask for any of this.”

Hannibal resists the urge to chuckle and tell Will that this is, actually, his fondest wish come true.

“Will,” Hannibal says, pulling the covers back so they can see one another, “you are to stop worrying and let me take care of things. I promise that all will be well. Just lay back and enjoy the pleasure I’m giving you, and everything will become clearer afterwards.”

Will doesn’t look convinced.

“I promise. Listen to Daddy, now.”

Will sighs and acquiesces, and Hannibal’s cock stiffens at the mere thought of this boy giving himself over so completely.

After Will had fallen asleep, Hannibal spent much of the night deciding just how far to involve the boy in the Freddie issue. He could just make the entire thing go away, perhaps even hypnotize the boy into thinking it never happened. He is loath to affect Will’s brilliant mind in such a way, but he will if it is necessary.

That would be the safe thing to do.

Or he could make Will his partner in everything. Bring him to the basement. Show him exactly what will be done with Freddie, and why Will does not need to worry about her body being found.

Ultimately, it was the fact that he’d felt Will fully surrender the night before, as Hannibal had whispered seductive words about gods and mortals, that made the decision for him.

Hannibal redoubles his efforts and Will is writhing beneath him, whimpering, within a matter of moments. It doesn’t take long for Hannibal to expertly bring him to completion, swallowing down every drop of his beloved boy’s seed.

Ingesting the very essence of Will.

Hannibal wills his own erection away. There will be time for that later, and Will might need a physical connection to help him deal with what Hannibal is about to show him.

“Breakfast?” Will asks. He’s wearing nothing but one of Hannibal’s shirts, barely buttoned, and it keeps distracting Hannibal from the task at hand.

“We are, indeed, headed to the kitchen, but not for breakfast,” Hannibal says. “I have something I wish to show you.”

“Okay,” Will says, trusting and soft and perfect.

“It may shock you,” Hannibal says. “You might discover I am not the man you thought I was.”

“I know who you are,” Will says fiercely. “I see into your soul, Hannibal. Nothing you can show me will change that.”

Hannibal fervently hopes that to be true.

He opens the door to the basement and hears Will’s gasp of surprise.

“It’s so well-camouflaged,” he murmurs.

A perfect metaphor for Hannibal, as well. 

They begin down the stairs, and Hannibal acknowledges he still has time to call the whole thing off. There is no need to involve Will any further.

But he selfishly wants this. He wants to expose every facet of himself to Will, and hope that Will loves them all. 

He wants Will to choose to be his completely, with the full knowledge of what he’s agreeing to.

The flash freezer is smaller than Hannibal would like--not much larger than a coffin. Freddie is so small, though, she fits with ample extra space. Hannibal swings the door open and hears Will’s intake of breath.

“That’s how you got rid of it so quickly,” Will whispers. His eyes are flicking back and forth, taking in information and processing it rapidly. “You must have this freezer for animal carcasses. To preserve the meat.”

“Will,” Hannibal says gently, “you know better.”

Will’s eyes lock on his, and Hannibal can see the exact moment that Will allows himself to understand the truth.

“This isn’t for animals, is it?” he says.

“I would argue it is exactly for the purpose you stated. But what else?”

Will looks again at the freezer, just the perfect size to hold a human body. But Hannibal can see that his mind is rejecting the very thought of the truth.

“Don’t lie to yourself, Will. See what is right in front of you.”

“It’s for people,” Will whispers. “You have a freezer for people.”

“Cunning boy,” Hannibal says, placing a hand on Will’s shoulder. He’s gratified to find that Will doesn’t cower from his touch.

“You don’t just purchase something like this on a whim,” Will says. He turns and looks at the other processing equipment around him. “All of this, the hidden door--this is central to who you are, isn’t it?”

Hannibal nods, his eyes still locked on Will, looking for any sign of impending doom.

“You kill them, and you freeze them. That’s why you were so calm last night,” Will continues. “You’ve dealt with this situation before.”

Hannibal waits for the last piece to click into place.

“But why freeze them?” Will says. “It’s an additional expense, and extra time, when you could dispose of the bodies more efficiently with a cremation oven.” Will turns in a circle. “Which I see you already have. The only reason to freeze them is to…” 

Hannibal knows Will understands, and he’s just fighting what he knows to be true.

“To make the meat easier to cut,” Will whispers. “You’re eating them.”

He looks at Hannibal, an elation in his eyes at having figured the puzzle out. Hannibal waits for that elation to turn to disgust or terror.

If he’s miscalculated, if Will is not able to accept this, Hannibal will be forced into a position he very much does not want to be in.

“Have I eaten them?” Will asks.

“Yes,” Hannibal says softly.

Will sits on the ground then, looking around, bewildered. Hannibal kneels next to him.

“I want you to see me,” he tells Will. “All of me.”

“All of you,” Will whispers. He’s quiet for some time. Hannibal stays next to him patiently, ready to provide whatever Will needs. 

Finally, Will speaks again. “We are gods,” he says, his eyes meeting Hannibal’s, “and they are mere mortals.”

And Hannibal knows that his boy is still his. There will, no doubt, be bumps in the road as Will fully acknowledges the magnitude of what Hannibal has shown him. But if he’s not recoiling from Hannibal now, that means he’s accepted the most difficult part.

“Am I safe?” Will asks, sounding younger than he is.

“ _ Mylimasis _ , you have nothing to fear from me, ever. And I will protect you from anyone who would harm you. You are the safest you have ever been.”

Will reaches for Hannibal then and Hannibal pulls him into his arms, whispering soothing words in his ear.

Will only speaks one, but it’s exactly what Hannibal hopes to hear.

“Daddy.”


	18. Chapter 18

Hannibal scoops Will up off the cold floor and draws him close. Will’s mind feels pulled in a thousand different directions, but he marks the thought that he could get used to Hannibal carrying him everywhere.

Hannibal whispers words that Will doesn’t understand, but the tone makes it clear they’re soothing endearments.

It’s so much easier to relax against him, let Hannibal take care of everything--including Will. To cede control to this exceptional man.

To do otherwise would cause Will’s fragile psyche to shatter. What he needs right now is to have the freedom to let go, and Hannibal will give him that.

All he has to accept in return is that fact that Hannibal kills and eats people.

_ Not just Hannibal,  _ his mind whispers.  _ You kill and eat people too. _

_ But not on purpose _ , he argues with himself.

That argument feels disingenuous even as he makes it. He remembers the thrill of pulling the fishing line taut until Freddie stopped struggling. Of knowing he was the one who permanently silenced her. 

It was power and ecstasy all at once. The only time he’d felt anything similar was when he and Hannibal were having sex.

And the cannibalism? A normal person would have retched at the very thought, at the idea they’d consumed human flesh. That, in all probability, there is human flesh in his stomach at this exact moment, from the bites Hannibal had offered him while preparing dinner.

It was delicious. And it’s not like  _ not _ eating them made them any less dead.

If you kill people, you might even have a moral imperative to eat them. At least that way, their meat isn’t wasted.

Will has been so deeply inside his thoughts that he hasn’t realized they’re arrived at the bedroom. Hannibal lays Will on the bed and then covers Will’s body with his own, his weight a comfort, reassuring Will that anyone who wants to harm him will have to get through Hannibal first.

Hannibal makes Will more feral. He makes him more real, more actuated.

More himself.

“What do you need, baby?” Hannibal asks huskily.

“I need you closer, Daddy. I need you inside me.”

He expects Hannibal to demur, to say that Will’s not ready or the timing isn’t right or something of the sort. But instead, Hannibal nods slightly and slots his mouth over Will’s.

What Will wants is to surrender completely and know he is still safe. Hannibal’s tongue is in Will’s mouth, his hands exploring Will’s body, a finger sliding between his asscheeks, and focusing on those sensations lets Will turn off the anxious part of his brain.

“Do you want Daddy to make you feel good?” Hannibal rasps.

Will lets go of all his fears, all his conscious thoughts. He belongs to Hannibal now. He is Hannibal’s to mold, to protect, to pleasure.

“Yes, please, Daddy,” Will pants.

Hannibal manages to undress both of them while continuing to claim Will’s mouth. He wraps his strong hand ( _ strong enough to kill _ ) around both of their cocks and strokes. The feeling is transcendent, and Will thrusts, moaning at the dual sensations of Hannibal’s cock and his hand.

He whimpers when Hannibal stops and flips Will on his stomach. Hannibal places a pillow under Will’s head so he feels like he’s floating on a cloud, and then positions Will ass-up.

“Are you comfortable, my darling?” Hannibal asks.

“Yes, Daddy,” Will says.

He can hear the pleased smile in Hannibal’s voice when he replies, “Good.”

The bed shifts, and then Hannibal’s talented tongue is licking a line from Will’s balls up to where Will’s hole is already fluttering in anticipation.

“Exquisite,” Hannibal murmurs, then returns his mouth to Will’s ass. He starts with gentle licks which quickly turn into sucks, his lips closing around Will’s hole and teasing him so deliciously. 

Will whines at how amazing it feels, wanting to push back against Hannibal’s talented mouth, but not willing to take control of the situation. He wants to remain a perfect vessel for Hannibal. He knows the pleasure it will bring both of them will be worth it.

Hannibal breaches him with his tongue, using short strokes and plenty of spit to open Will up.

“Relax, darling,” Hannibal says, and Will can feel his body obeying.

His tight muscle loosens enough that Hannibal can lick deeper inside Will. He alternates tonguing Will’s ass with sucking the rim, and Will thinks he might come just from this.

As if Hannibal can read his thoughts, he growls, “You come when I tell you to, Will.”

“Yes, Daddy,” Will groans, his face buried in the pillow.

After rimming him loose and wet, all of the sudden Hannibal stops. Will remains face-down and pliant on the bed, waiting for whatever Hannibal wants to give him. He feels the bed shift, and then the click of a cap. There’s a squelching sound and then Hannibal’s amply lubricated finger is pressing against Will’s entrance. He presses inside, slow but with a steady motion. Will feels his body yield to Hannibal’s intrusion, to welcome it, to crave more.

Hannibal fucks Will slowly with one finger until he deems Will relaxed enough, and then he adds a second finger. Will adjusts to this much quicker, and he has to force himself to stay still instead of fucking himself back on Hannibal’s fingers. Hannibal seems to know what Will wants, and thrusts into him just on the right side of pleasure and pain.

When Hannibal quirks his fingers and brushes Will’s prostate, Will is momentarily worried that he’ll come all over the bed, without Hannibal’s permission. Thankfully, he gets himself under control.

He doesn’t want to disappoint his Daddy by coming without permission.

Finally, Hannibal pulls his fingers out and Will’s stomach drops in anticipation. He’s not scared that having Hannibal’s cock in his ass will hurt; he’s more worried that he’ll be shit at bottoming and leave Hannibal unfulfilled.

Hannibal rolls Will on his back again, his brown eyes full of tenderness for his boy.

“How do you feel?” he asks gently.

“It was so good, Daddy, but I need more of you,” Will says. “Please, I need you to fuck me. I need it. I might die if you don’t fuck me.”

Hannibal chuckles. “A bit dramatic, baby, but I understand.”

Hannibal opens the lube bottle and pushes more inside Will. Then, he lubes up his own cock and positions himself at Will’s entrance. He closes his eyes, almost as if he’s praying, before snapping them open as he begins to slide inside Will.

It’s uncomfortable for a minute, until Will makes himself consciously relax. Hannibal’s cock is much larger than anything Will’s ever had inside him, but it’s  _ Hannibal _ , so Will knows he’s not going to be hurt. Hannibal pushes in slowly until he’s all the way seated. Will throws his arms around Hannibal’s neck and clings to him.

“Shhh. Are you alright?” Hannibal asks.

“I will be when you move,” Will replies.

“Cheeky thing,” Hannibal says, pulling back and thrusting into Will with more force. His cock nudges Will’s prostate and he cries out.

“Are you ready for Daddy to really fuck you?” Hannibal growls in Will’s ear.

“Please, Daddy, I need it,” Will moans.

Hannibal begins thrusting into Will with a controlled speed and force that reduces Will to nothing but pure sensation. He feels the loss every time Hannibal pulls back, but then there’s the relief of the next thrust right afterwards. Finally, finally Hannibal is deep enough inside him.

“Daddy, I don’t know how long I can last,” he cries out.

“Not yet,” Hannibal says, hammering into Will’s ass, every other stroke hitting Will’s sensitive prostate. 

“Daddy, please, please,” Will begs.

Finally Hannibal takes pity on him and wraps a hand around Will’s cock. “You may come, baby,” he says.

The words aren’t even out of his mouth before Will is spilling himself over Hannibal’s hand, cries of ecstasy rolling from his mouth.

He feels Hannibal shoot deep inside him, and he feels complete and full and protected.

Always protected.

Will wants to stay awake, to hear Hannibal whisper praise into his ear, but both his mind and his body are thoroughly exhausted, and his eyes close of their own volition.


	19. Chapter 19

Once Hannibal is certain Will is asleep, he slips away. There’s more that needs to be done;  _ should _ have been done before Freddie was frozen, of course. But Will needed him, and Will is his top priority.

He hopes Freddie has an older-model phone. It will simplify his life tremendously.

He heads into the basement to discover that her phone is, indeed, several generations old. 

Excellent.

He opens the freezer and holds his hand around her thumb, allowing his body heat to defrost it a bit. He hopes he’s chosen correctly and she unlocks her phone with her right hand. Otherwise, he’s going to have to go through this tiresome task with the other hand.

He dries the soggy thumb with a cloth and presses it against the phone sensor. The phone unlocks immediately.

With Freddie’s paranoia, he doubts she’s stupid enough to have location services enabled, but he checks nonetheless, pleased when he discovers they’re not turned on. His house is close enough to campus that cell records won’t show her to be anywhere out of the ordinary.

Hannibal flips through the apps, finding not two but four cloud backup services. Freddie clearly had not believed in keeping all her eggs in one basket.

She hadn’t counted on Will’s delicious jealousy, though.

His cock begins to stiffen at the thought that Will had killed a woman just because she had the audacity to insinuate Hannibal would sleep with her. Not that Hannibal wouldn’t have done the same in Will’s position, but he was a serial killer.

He’ll need to get back to his boy soon. His ass will undoubtedly ache when he awakens, and Hannibal wants to be there to soothe him through it.

Thoughts of Will taking his cock so well distract Hannibal further from the task at hand. Like everything Will does, he was effortlessly graceful and erotic as Hannibal had fucked him. If Hannibal thought he was unhealthily attached to Will before, what they’d just done made his obsession even more intense.

Hannibal shakes his head as if to clear it and returns to Freddie’s phone. He checks her cloud apps and finds the offending pictures. One of them is Will sprawled out on Hannibal as Hannibal stroked his boy to completion, and he considers saving that one. Will looks so beautifully debauched. But he ultimately decides it’s not worth the risk, especially because he plans to debauch Will frequently in the future.

After deleting it from all four apps, he checks Freddie’s outbox. Just as he had suspected, she’d also emailed the pictures to herself. He takes care of that as well.

His luck has been excellent so far, and he hopes it will hold out for just a bit longer. He opens the heavy bag Freddie had been carrying to find both her laptop and her camera. Hannibal suspected that she carried them both with her most of the time. He thanks her graciously for making things less difficult for him as he destroys the final evidence.

Then Hannibal spends a few minutes studying Freddie, trying to determine what he wished to harvest from her. It was a shame he couldn’t have taken her organs while they were still fresh. Although the muscle would not suffer much from the freezing, the organs would have all been damaged enough that he did not wish to cook with them.

He finally decides on thigh shanks for osso bucco. Freddie is a slim thing, so he’ll need to use most of both thighs, but he has no other plans for her so it’s not a hardship.

He cannot wait for the day that he and Will kill and butcher a cow together. They will take their time then, harvest what they wish while the meat is still fresh.

But for now, Hannibal heads for his autopsy saw. He has work to do.

Hannibal has finished his task, sealed the osso bucco, and returned to the kitchen when Will stumbles sleepily in.

“Hello, darling,” Hannibal says. “I had expected you to nap for longer.”

“I woke up and you were gone,” Will says, sounding young, petulant, and (to Hannibal’s ears) delightful.

“My poor Will,” Hannibal murmurs, taking the boy in his arms. “I am sorry to have left you all alone.”

Will sniffs as he embraces Hannibal, and Hannibal curiously waits for what Will will say.

“You were in the basement,” he finally says.

“I was. How did you know?”

“You smell like blood.”

“Does it offend you?”

Will shows his teeth then in a feral snarl. “She offended me.”

Hannibal kisses Will’s forehead, marveling at how he can go from innocent naif to cold-blooded killer and back within seconds. “She shall never have the opportunity to offend you again,” he says.

“What about the pictures?” Will asks.

“All taken care of, mylimasis,” Hannibal soothes. “Now, come, let’s eat something and have a shower. I’ve made an appointment with my tailor today.”

Will is practically bratty when they get to the tailor, which Hannibal adores.

“How long is this going to take?” Will whines as his measurements are taken.

“Bespoke takes time, darling,” Hannibal says. “But the results will be worth it.”

“Why do I need a suit anyway?”

Hannibal strides over to where Will is standing. The tailor discreetly moves away. “So I can strip it off you, you spoiled thing,” Hannibal whispers in Will’s ear.

Will’s face gets red, and he says, “Do you want me to stop?”

“Do I want you to stop bratting?” Hannibal says. “I hope you do not, because imagining how I will punish you later is bringing me great joy. Is that why you’re doing this, Will? Do you need me to take you in hand? Remind you who your Daddy is?”

“Yes, please,” Will says, biting his lower lip as he gazes into Hannibal’s eyes. “I do need that, I think.”

Hannibal hopes the tailor has gotten all the inseam measurements he needs as notices Will’s cock stiffening.

A break is required, during which they have tea and Will tries to think of less stimulating things.

When they get home, Hannibal leads Will to the bedroom.

“Strip and get on all fours,” he demands.

Will’s eyes fill with hunger and he grins.

“Oh, my dear boy,” Hannibal says, “I wouldn’t get too excited just yet. First, you must take your punishment.”


	20. Chapter 20

Hannibal pulls Will’s head up by his hair. All that Will can manage is a weak moan.

“Do you have anything to say?” Hannibal purrs.

Will has lost the ability to even form words. He knows his ass is going to be bruised the following day; Hannibal has not gone easy on the punishment. At first, it had been erotic. And it continued to be, although about midway through, the pain had begun to overtake the pleasure. Hannibal had shown no mercy, though.

Will had initially tried to count the spanks, but he’d lost the ability to remember words.

Finally, he’s escaped through the other side of the pain and he’s floating in what he hazily imagines must be subspace. It’s amazing. It literally feels as if he’s in outer space, a million miles away from his body and his thoughts.

A million miles from everything except Hannibal’s voice.

Hannibal twists his hand in Will’s hair so they’re looking at each other. His eyes immediately soften when he notices how unfocused Will’s are.

“Are you flying, my love?” Hannibal says, the sadistic edge immediately gone from his voice. 

Will tries to answer, but he has no voice. It will take years until he’s able to speak again. He manages a weak nod.

“That’s enough, then,” Hannibal says, scooping Will up from where he’s laying across Hannibal’s lap and gently moving him onto the bed. “You were such a good boy for me, Will. Took your punishment so well.”

Will is content to just stare at Hannibal, at the wrinkle of concern between his eyebrows, at the way his tie is loosened and he looks undone. Hannibal Lecter never looks undone.

No one gets to see him like this. No one except Will.

Hannibal moves under the blankets and takes Will in his mouth. It’s not sexual so much as it is comforting, and Will continues to float for an indeterminate amount of time. Eventually, his cock begins to harden in Hannibal’s mouth.

It’s so gentle, the way Hannibal is treating him. At the same time, he knows exactly what to do in order to get Will off quickly. Will’s ass aches from where Hannibal spanked him, and the contrast between that pain and the pleasure of Hannibal’s mouth sends Will over the edge. He opens his mouth but no sound comes out as he empties himself down Hannibal’s throat.

“Let’s get you in the tub, my darling,” Hannibal murmurs. He carries Will into the bathroom and starts the water in the sunken tub. He then sits down on the step, cradling Will to him.

“Do you plan to be a brat again anytime soon?” Hannibal says.

Will looks him directly in the eyes and nods his head slightly.

“Have I created a monster?” Hannibal asks, the corner of his mouth quirking.

Will nods again.

“Would it be enough if we incorporated spanking into our regular repertoire?” Hannibal asks. “As lovely as it was to watch you tumble into subspace, I do not relish causing you so much pain.”

“Maybe just on special occasions?” Will manages to whisper. He’s coming out of it, he can feel himself falling back down to earth, but he’s still filled with that sensation of wholeness: everything is right in the world, and Will Graham is loved.

Hannibal chuckles. “Beloved boy,” he says. “I shall do anything you ask of me.”

Will awakens first the following morning and rolls over to watch Hannibal. He looks strong and regal, even in sleep, and Will’s heart feels like it might burst with love. He reaches behind him and tentatively presses his fingers against his ass, hissing from the dull ache of it.

His hand wanders between his cheeks and presses against his tight pucker. He changes position so he can reach himself better, and teases himself with his fingertip before he retrieves the lube and pours it on his fingers. He spends a few minutes playing with himself, readying himself for Hannibal. Then he pulls the blankets down and wraps his hand around Hannibal’s cock.

Hannibal’s breath comes faster, but he shows no other signs of awakening. Will strokes him to full hardness and then climbs astride, slowly lowering himself onto Hannibal’s cock.

Hannibal comes awake all at once. He sits up, pushing his cock deeper into Will as he does so. Hannibal’s hands land on Will’s hips, gripping tightly, but not tightly enough to bruise. He growls and then nips at Will’s throat. Will tosses his head back in sheer ecstasy as Hannibal thrusts up into him.

“Hungry boy this morning, hmm?” Hannibal says against Will’s neck. “Did you need Daddy to fill you up that much, my darling? Was your ass aching for my cock?”

His hand reaches around to cup Will’s asscheek, and Will groans.

“Or is your ass aching for another reason?” Hannibal purrs. “Did you like it when I struck you like the naughty boy you were being, Will? Did you realize that you deserved each stroke?”

“Yes, Daddy,” Will gasps. Hannibal is hitting Will’s prostate with every thrust, and Will knows he’s not going to last much longer. 

“Can I please come?” he asks, looking down at Hannibal.

“No,” Hannibal says simply as he continues to fuck Will.

The buildup is too much, and Will doesn’t know how much longer he can hold out. He’s not eager to find out what the punishment will be if he comes too early. Knowing Hannibal, he’ll just pull Will off and get on with their day, leaving Will with a wicked case of blue balls.

“Please, Daddy,” Will whines. “Please, I’ll be so good.”

Hannibal hums. “Will you let me fuck you on the desk of my office later?”

Will’s eyes open wide. They’ve been so careful not to indulge at school.

“I’m waiting. Will you give yourself to me at school, Will? Take my cock as other students walk by just meters away?”

“Yes,” Will says. Hannibal’s words pushing him even closer to the edge.

“Then you may come,” Hannibal says, continuing his punishing pace until Will’s cock spurts between them. Hannibal groans and empties himself deep inside Will.

“You are the most perfect thing I have ever beheld,” Hannibal says, pulling Will down into a gentle kiss.

Will knows it’s not true. No one is perfect--except Hannibal Lecter.


End file.
